Calling for You
by TexasRevoFan
Summary: Charlie's staying with her uncle Miles, the last person on earth to use a land line telephone. When Miles' best friend Bass Monroe keeps calling, his conversations with Charlie turn steamy as they give in to their powerful attraction to each other. But can they keep what they're doing from Miles? Charloe. M for Lemons. AU, no blackout.
1. Chapter 1

Charlie leaned over the dresser in her uncle's guest room, putting in her second earring, the final touch on her outfit before she left for class. In the living room, she heard the phone ring and quickly rushed out to grab it. Her uncle Miles had to be the last person on earth who refused to get a cell phone and relied exclusively on his landline for communication. He was always ranting about how if people became too dependent on technology, someday it would all collapse and everyone would be screwed.

Somewhat breathless from dashing across the apartment, Charlie clicked on the cordless phone. "Hello?" she answered.

A pause, then, "Is Miles there?" A masculine, assertive voice. Charlie's heart sped up for no discernable reason.

"No, he's not. Who should I say called?"

"This is Bass Monroe," the voice said, as if his statement needed no further explanation.

"Okay, Bass Monroe," Charlie said with a laugh.

"And who's this?" he asked archly.

"This is Charlie. Miles' niece," Charlie replied, purposely dispelling any ideas this Bass Monroe might have about her being some other type of woman in Miles' life.

"Miles' niece… the one who's really into archery?"

"Close, but I haven't done that in about ten years," Charlie said dryly at the reminder of her childhood hobby.

"Guess I lost track of time," Bass replied, and Charlie could hear the smile in his voice, realized he was teasing her. She had no idea what to say in response, and Bass continued, "Will you let Miles know he's got the ticket for the game on Sunday? And to call me?"

"Call Bass Monroe. Got it," Charlie finally managed to respond.

"See ya, Charlie," he said, and hung up without waiting for her response.

Charlie replaced the phone in its cradle, staring into space for a few seconds. She had no idea why a simple phone conversation was affecting her this way. Other than Bass Monroe had probably the sexiest voice she'd ever heard, hoarse and intense and arrogant. _This is Bass Monroe_. As she got up to finish getting ready for school, Charlie couldn't help but hope that she would hear that voice again very soon.

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Sunday afternoon, Charlie was standing in the kitchen, putting together a late lunch. She had slept late, and then she and her uncle spent the morning watching ESPN and the first part of the 1:00 football game. Miles owned a bar and so was usually around during the day and gone late into the night. The bar was a second calling for him, after he'd retired from the Marines a few years prior. He grumbled and fussed about the hassle of being a business owner, but Charlie could tell he loved his little slice of Chicago's nightlife. And of course, alcohol.

Down the hall, she heard Miles open the front door and let someone in. Then, she froze as she recognized the voice exchanging greetings with her uncle. Bass Monroe. She recalled that he had mentioned something about Sunday when they talked. But she hadn't realized he would be coming here.

Then her uncle stepped into the kitchen, with Bass following behind. Charlie's breath caught in her chest. Hot lust shot through her body as she raked her eyes greedily over Bass, taking in this incredible male specimen. How he'd sounded was nothing compared to how he looked. His slightly too long curly hair, his chiseled jaw line, the whiskers that added to his disheveled, careless appearance… and his eyes. Intense, sexy blue eyes that were now burning into hers, returning-if Charlie wasn't mistaken-her surprise and desire.

"Bass, you remember Charlie, my niece," Miles said offhandedly, striding to the fridge and pulling out a beer, tossing it to Bass.

"Not really," Bass said with a crooked grin, still not taking his eyes off her. "Hey, Charlie. I'm Bass."

"Hi," Charlie said, then turned back to arranging her plate of cheese. Miles turned and walked out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder that he was going to hit the can and then they could go.

Charlie moved to a different cupboard, looking for the crackers she thought she'd seen a few days ago. She spotted them near the back and stretched up on her tiptoes, reaching up for the box. As she did, she could feel Bass' gaze on her back and was suddenly self-conscious of how her snug Chicago Bears t-shirt was pulling up above the waistband of her jeans. Thudding back down on her heels, she quickly spilled a few crackers out of the box and set it aside, turning around.

"So Miles says you're staying with him for awhile?" Bass asked, leaning on the counter behind him, beer in his hand. Charlie's heart thudded at how sexy he looked in his worn leather jacket, faded t-shirt, and jeans.

"Yeah," Charlie replied. "I'm doing a semester at the University of Chicago, helping a professor with some research and taking classes. Then I'll go back to Philly in the spring to finish up."

"Philadelphia, huh?" Bass asked. "I always wanted to spend some time there. I love all the history."

"Yeah, all the American Revolution stuff is pretty great," Charlie said, trying to form coherent words rather than just stare at Bass' mouth as he spoke.

Bass shook his head. "I'm more of a Civil War guy. Philadelphia Brigade, Frankford Arsenal, Belmont Mansion…"

Miles popped back into the kitchen. "What are we talking about?"

"Competing to see who can name the most obscure Civil War attractions in Philly," Charlie teased, looking at Bass with a grin. "So far, Bass is winning." She felt her nipples tingle to hardness as he smiled in return.

Miles rolled his eyes, "Yeah, no doubt he is. You ready to go, brother?"

Bass nodded, quickly draining his beer and setting the empty bottle down. "Let's do it. Charlie, good luck with your semester. Maybe I'll see you around."

He and Miles made their way out the door, and as soon as she heard it shut behind them, Charlie rested back against the counter, tipping her head back and breathing deeply. _Wow_. Her body was practically humming with energy in the wake of Bass Monroe. She ran her hands up over her arms and down across her chest, trying to gather herself. Charlie didn't think she'd ever been so instantly, so intensely attracted to someone. The two minutes they'd talked had left her craving more of him.

Shaking her head, Charlie grabbed her plate of food and headed to the living room. Maybe a few hours of football would get him out of her head. Or if not, she mused, she could always watch the crowd shots for a glimpse of him.

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Later that night, Charlie was alone at the apartment, doing some reading for school while the last football game of the day played in the background. Miles was at the bar. He'd told her he was just going to drop by to check on things, even though technically one of his managers was on duty.

The phone rang next to Charlie, and she picked it up, still focused on her book. "Hello," she said distractedly.

"Hey… Charlie?" It was him. Charlie's head snapped to attention and she practically dropped the phone.

"Yeah, hey. Bass?"

He laughed, an intimate, sexy laugh. "Yeah, hey," he repeated. "Is Miles there?"

Charlie shook her head, then realized Bass couldn't see her. "No, he's at the bar. Headed over there after you dropped him off."

"Oh, did he?" Bass didn't sound surprised at all. "Well, he left his jacket in my car."

Smiling, Charlie replied, "Good thing it's 75 degrees out."

Bass laughed again. That laugh. "Good thing."

Not wanting to hang up, Charlie quickly asked, "So, how was the game?"

"Figured you'd seen it," Bass said. "Or was that Bears t-shirt just for show?"

Charlie's face grew hot at the reminder that he'd noticed what she'd been wearing. "No, I did watch it. I mean, how was being there?"

"Oh, it's always great. I have season tickets, never miss a home game."

Charlie was impressed. Impulsively, she said, "Nice. Maybe one of these days I can convince you to take me instead of Miles."

Bass paused a second, then said, "I don't know, Miles can be pretty possessive of his spot."

"But I can be very persuasive."

He chuckled and said, "I bet you can be." Another pause, then he added, "Alright, well. Can you let Miles know about the jacket?"

"Will do," Charlie said lightly. As they hung up and she turned back to her schoolwork, Charlie found that she couldn't stop smiling.

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Two nights later, Tuesday, Charlie had survived a particularly grueling, fruitless day in the library. She'd decided to unwind with a glass or several of red wine and a movie on TV. After being settled in for a while, she was finally feeling relaxed and slightly buzzed when the phone rang. Her heart leapt. Maybe it was… but that was ridiculous, why would he be calling?

She answered, irrationally excited, "Hello?"

"Hey." Bass' voice came over the line. _Oh my god_.

"Hey," she said, a huge smile involuntarily spreading across her face. Awkwardly, she blurted, "Miles isn't here." He was always at the bar on weeknights.

"I know," Bass replied. He let the words hang between them, their significance sinking in.

"Oh," was all Charlie could come up with to say.

"What are you doing?" Bass asked. Charlie blushed, feeling warm all over.

"Just watching a movie on TV," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. She couldn't believe she and Bass Monroe were talking on the phone. As if this was a thing they did.

"What's on?" he asked, and she heard his TV pop on in the background.

"Phantom of the Opera. TBS," she admitted, slightly embarrassed, wishing she'd decided to watch something more Bass-like. 300. Sin City. Something.

He found the movie, and for a few seconds they watched in silence as Christine descended into the Phantom's lair beneath the opera house.

Bass chuckled, "Women are funny."

Charlie was immediately indignant. "How so?" she demanded.

"Well, she's just going down into this dungeon with this Phantom guy who's totally obsessed with her and wants to control her. And she's completely into it. I think deep down, you all want to be dominated," he explained cockily.

Charlie protested, "We do not! Anyway, she goes for the nice, normal guy in the end."

"Yeah, but you know she's not really happy with Raoul. She'll never stop thinking about the Phantom," Bass replied.

"Maybe. But even the Phantom knew he was no good for her," Charlie said.

Bass gave no immediate response, and the silence stretched between them. Finally, in a softer, deeper voice, he said, "Yeah, maybe he did know it."

Charlie didn't reply, thinking of Bass. Probably he was no good for her. He had to be at least as old as her uncle, so more than twice her age. She had no idea what he did, really no idea what he was like. And anyone who was that sinfully attractive had to be bad news. Still, Charlie knew she didn't really care. She wanted him.

"You know, you'd look pretty good in something like that," Bass' voice cut into her thoughts, his tone light again.

Charlie focused on the screen and saw that the heroine was wearing an elaborate, low-cut gown that showed plenty of skin. She smiled at his comment and said, "Sorry to disappoint you, but it's just shorts and a tank top tonight."

"Shorts, huh? Doesn't sound too bad," Bass replied, his voice hitching just a little.

Unconsciously, Charlie rubbed her hand up over her thigh and shivered. "They're comfortable," she replied inanely.

"What kind of tank top?" Bass asked.

Charlie giggled nervously. "I don't know, what kinds are there?"

"Well, from what I understand, they come in colors, fabrics…" Bass trailed off, urging her to fill in the blanks.

Charlie giggled again-_what is wrong with me_? "Um, it's light blue," she said, unsure if this was what he wanted to hear. "Cotton. Stretchy, I guess."

She heard Bass breathe in and out heavily, and when he spoke again, his voice was strained, "Sounds nice."

"What about you?" she tossed out. "I assume you're not wearing a dress shirt with a neck ruffle," she joked, referring to what the Phantom was wearing in the movie right then.

Bass snorted. "Just jeans and a t-shirt here."

"Jeans?" she asked. "Doesn't sound too comfy for a night in front of the TV."

"Yeah, well." His breath was quickening. "I'm working on that."

Charlie heard the phone move against his face, and it sounded like he was shifting around. Her breath caught in shock. He couldn't mean… before she lost her wine-fueled nerve, she began to ask: "Bass, are you…" As she spoke, she ran her hand down over her stomach and further, below her waistband, stroking there lightly.

"Am I what?" he whispered, his voice husky.

"Touching yourself," she finished, now fully exploring her wet folds with her fingers, sure of his answer.

"Fuck. Maybe. Are you?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "I am."

He commanded her, "Tell me. Tell me how it feels."

Charlie breathed for a few beats, then gasped, "I'm… wet. I have my fingers… inside."

Bass moaned slightly. "God. Damnit. Are your shorts still on?"

"Yeah."

"Take them off. Panties too."

Charlie balanced the phone on her shoulder and complied, sliding the material over her hips and down her smooth legs, leaving it puddled at her feet. She rested back on the rough fabric of the couch and said, "Okay. They're off."

"Spread your legs," Bass told her. "And keep going."

Charlie dipped her fingers down to her entrance then smeared her moisture over her clit, relishing the pressure. She cried out softly, "God, Bass, it feels so amazing. I'm so wet for you."

His voice came back a seductive murmur. "Good. That's good. If I were there, I'd make you come for me. Can you do it instead?"

"Come for you?" she asked, her fingers speeding up, working more firmly. "Yeah, I think I can." They were silent for a few minutes except for occasional grunts and moans of pleasure. Charlie was more turned on than she could ever remember being. Maybe it was because what they were doing was so forbidden. If Miles knew… Maybe it was talking dirty with this man who so clearly relished it. Maybe it was just him. Sexy, confident Bass Monroe.

Charlie felt the coiling in her belly that meant she was close and said, "Bass, I'm… I'm going to come." She dipped her fingers into her core, then ran them back up her slit, rubbing her engorged clit. Her hips shifted under her own ministrations as she imagined the fingers fondling her belonged to Bass.

"Oh God, yes… yes… ughhhhh…" Charlie released a loud moan as her body spasmed into orgasm, releasing a flood of wetness onto her fingers.

Dimly, she registered Bass on the other end of the phone, panting more quickly, then muttering, "Oh, fuck, Charlie..." then making a strangled, involuntary groan of completion.

They lay there quietly for a few seconds. Charlie asked hazily, "Did you…"

Bass chuckled. "What do you think?"

As she came down from her high, Charlie's lust faded away and mortification began to set in. "Alright, I'm hanging up now," she said hastily. "Goodbye, Bass."

She heard him chuckle again, and he replied, "Goodnight, Charlie. Thanks for a fun… talk." She heard the line click, and she turned the phone off, her head still spinning with the aftershocks of her climax.

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The next morning at breakfast, Charlie eyed her uncle speculatively. After what she and Bass had done last night, she was burning with curiosity about him. Charlie realized that Miles had no clue that she and Bass had even been talking. Let alone that they had masturbated themselves to simultaneous orgasm while talking dirty on Miles' phone. So she had to be careful.

"That guy, Bass, who you went to the football game with," she started. "He has season tickets or something?"

Miles didn't look at her or move, just grunted "mmm hmm" while staring at his newspaper, coffee cup glued to one hand. Even though it was 11 a.m., he still wasn't fully awake. Miles was not exactly a morning person. As the owner of a bar, it was appropriate enough.

"How do y'all know each other?" This got his attention, as he looked up at her in surprise.

"I've known Bass forever. You've met him before. Remember, we were kids together, Marines together…"

"Is he retired, too?"

Miles nodded, "Yeah, same year as me." That confirmed what Charlie had suspected, that Bass must be at least in his mid-40s, same as Miles. God, how could a man that much older than her be so outrageously sexy?

"So what does he do now?" Charlie pressed. Fortunately, Miles was apparently too groggy to find her keen interest suspicious. He glowered.

"Now," he intoned with heavy sarcasm, "He gets the shit beat out of him every other night for no reason."

Charlie was genuinely confused. "What does _that_ mean?"

Miles sighed. "He fights. For money. I've told him a thousand times he should stop; he doesn't need the cash. But he won't listen."

Beginning to understand, Charlie asked, "So, what, like pro fighting? MMA-style?"

Looking disgusted, Miles replied, "He wishes it were that classy. More like barroom-brawl-style, only slightly more organized."

Charlie tried to shove away the image of a sweaty, bloodied Bass trading blows with some faceless opponent in a dark, smoky bar. "Wow. You said he gets the shit beat out of him? So he loses a lot?"

"No, that's the problem," Miles clarified, frustrated. "He _never_ loses, but you don't have to lose to take a serious beating. Last month he split his knuckles open so bad he ended up at the hospital. Twenty stitches to put his hand back in one piece."

Charlie winced, weighing whether to chance her next question. She decided her need to know made it worth the risk. "His girlfriend must hate that," she tossed out, as casually as humanly possible.

Miles took the bait. "Girlfriend? Bass? Yeah, right. If he ever met a woman he could tolerate for more than a rough fuck and a cup of coffee the morning after, I'd be shocked," he spat, then glanced up, seeming to realize who he was talking to. "Sorry."

"I know what sex is, Miles. It's fine." Charlie did her best to act neutral about this revelation. Well, what had she expected? A man who looked like that, who seduced her into phone sex without ever taking her on a date, of course worked his way through a lot of women. She had no right to feel as disappointed and jealous as she did.

Miles dropped his paper and pushed back from the table. "I gotta go open the bar. You coming by tonight? We missed you yesterday."

Charlie hesitated. "I don't think so. I have to…" Wait around in case your womanizing best friend calls and wants to have phone sex again. "Read for school," she finished lamely.

"Alright, well, have fun with that," Miles said absently as he walked out of the room. Charlie closed her eyes and thought, _With any luck at all, I will_.


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly 11 p.m. when the phone finally rang. Charlie was almost a full bottle of wine in, this time reading a mystery novel in an effort to distract herself from waiting for Bass to call. It had almost worked.

Charlie forced herself to hover her hand over the receiver for two full rings before snatching it up.

"Hello?" she answered in a breathy, excited voice.

Bass' answering low laugh rumbled over the line, causing warmth to rush between her legs. "You're lucky I'm not a telemarketer, answering the phone like that."

"Telemarketers don't usually call so late," she replied, a slight rebuke.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I was out earlier."

"At a fight?" Charlie asked before she could stop herself.

"Been asking Uncle Miles about me, have you?" Bass non-answered smoothly. "Better be careful about that. He'll get suspicious."

Sarcastically, Charlie replied, "Suspicious about what? We're just talking."

"I don't think I grabbed the phone to call you as soon as I got in the door so we could 'just talk.'"

"Why did you, then?" she asked, her stomach twisting in anticipation.

Bass' voice through the phone line was like a caress as he answered, "Because I can't stop thinking about how hot your ass looked in those jeans on Sunday. Or imagining your tits in that little blue tank top. Or you touching yourself while you came for me last night." Charlie moved her hand, prepared to do the same thing again.

"What does it do to you?" she asked, starting to touch herself ever so gently.

"It makes me hard as fuck," Bass replied, a slight rasp to his voice. "Which you already know."

"What would you do if you were here?" she challenged him, teasing herself, wanting her arousal to build slowly.

"If I were there, I'd have you in my arms," he began, "I'd run my hands over your body, over your tits, then pull you in tight. Let you feel how hard I am."

Charlie whimpered slightly, willing him to go on. She still kept her fingers outside her underwear, rubbing herself through the thin cotton.

"Then I'd lay you down on… where are you?"

"On my bed," she breathed.

Bass let out a shuddering laugh. "Of course you are. Laying there waiting for me to call, weren't you?"

"Yes," she confessed in a small voice.

"I'd lay you on your bed and pull off your panties. Do that for me now."

She obeyed, wiggling out of her cotton boyshorts. Finally, she let herself touch her bare flesh, moving her fingers firmly down into her cleft, crying out once with pleasure.

"God, Charlie," Bass moaned in response. "Are you touching yourself now?"

"Yes," she said again. It was all she could say to this man.

"If I was there, I'd be touching you. I'd have my fingers inside you, deep inside, where only I can reach. I'd finger fuck you there, teasing your clit, too. Until you came apart for me." His voice was growing more intense as he went on.

"Then what?" Charlie asked, working one hand inside herself and one over her clit, just as Bass was describing.

He continued. "Charlie, there will be times for me to take it slow with you. Times for me to taste you, to lick you until you writhe below me, until you beg me to let you come. There will be times when I worship you from head to toe. There will be times when I gag you with my cock, letting you know you are mine." Charlie's breath was coming in short gasps as she listened to him, her hips lifting into her fingers. She tried to hold off coming until he was ready for her, but it was getting difficult.

"But not now. Not tonight. Tonight I need you, we need each other, so badly. You're so wet for me that I can't wait. I have to have you. Now." He paused for a few seconds, and Charlie mentally begged him to go on, to finish it.

"So I lay you on your back and you open your legs to me. And I'm so fucking hard. I push my cock into you, hard. Fuck you, hard. So hard I'm bottoming out in you, and you're coming for me. Are you coming for me, Charlie?"

"Bass, I'm… I'm…" Charlie's fingers were moving rapidly over her clit now, now that he had entered her, in her mind. She plunged inside her opening, then gave a few last quick strokes of her clit until she shattered. "Yes, I'm coming. I'm coming," she cried, her body shaking.

"Fuck, so am I. I'm coming inside you, Charlie. I… augh…" His voice cut off suddenly as he allowed himself his release, bellowing with abandon.

This time as they both came down from the high of their orgasms, they lingered on the phone. Charlie didn't feel the same embarrassment, the need to hang up, that she'd felt the day before. Somehow, having him talk her through his fantasy, she felt powerful, sexy. A dreamy smile spread across her face as she listened to his breath over the phone line.

"So, I don't think I'm going to be home tomorrow night," Charlie said after a long pause. "Miles has been bugging me to go hang out at the bar, and I can't put it off any longer."

"Interesting," Bass said. "I usually go by Miles' bar on Thursdays, too. Maybe I'll see you there."

Charlie's heart filled with excitement and dread simultaneously. She was going to see him. Tomorrow. "Okay," she said, her voice betraying her sudden nervousness. "Sounds good."

Bass laughed. That laugh. "Get some sleep, Charlie. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said.

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The next night, Charlie sat at the end of the bar at Miles', watching the last quarter of the Thursday night football game. It was nearly 11 p.m., and once again, she was waiting for Bass. There was no sign of him. Charlie cursed herself for having been so excited. She'd even worn the jeans he'd said he liked, along with the blue tank top. She'd felt no need to be subtle in her efforts to look like a walking wet dream.

Charlie stared at the TV, absorbed in a critical third down play, when she both felt and heard a voice in her ear. "Jesus Christ, what are you trying to do to me?"

She turned quickly, and there was Bass, standing over her. Her eyes locked onto his, and electricity crackled between them. Slowly, he let his gaze wander over her body, making her feel naked. He leaned in, and she felt the warmth radiating off his body as he whispered, "This is exactly how I've been picturing you." A pause, a self-deprecating smile, and then he added, "Well, maybe not _exactly_."

Miles hustled over to them. "Bass, step away from Charlie," he said, irritated. "What are you doing here? You're never here on Thursdays. Didn't you fight?"

Charlie looked at Bass curiously, and he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I did. Earlier." Charlie noticed Bass' knuckles were freshly split open, and his lip and eye socket were slightly puffy. There were small streaks of dried blood along his neck and hairline. She gulped, suddenly feeling light-headed with lust.

"Looks like it went okay," Miles said, concerned for his friend despite his impatience with his choice to fight. He poured Bass a beer on tap and slid it over to him.

"Yeah, it went fine. Thanks for asking, brother." He clearly didn't want to discuss it further.

Miles nodded, then caught sight of a customer signaling him. He tapped the bar in farewell and walked away.

Bass turned to face Charlie, giving her an appraising look. "So, have you hung out here very much?" he said in opening, taking a sip of his beer.

Charlie smirked. "You mean, do I 'come here often'?" she said, mocking his trite question, then ignoring it. "Where do you fight?"

Bass smiled, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "That's not something I tell just anyone."

"Am I just anyone?"

"We'll see." He paused. "Why do you want to know?"

"Maybe I'd come watch you," Charlie said. "Put some money down. From what I hear, you're a pretty safe bet."

Bass shook his head. "Not so sure it's your kind of place. It's pretty rough. Dirty."

Charlie lobbed the softball back. "I can handle rough and dirty," she said, loading her words with significance.

Bass' smile tightened. "Like I said, we'll see." Glancing up at the TV, he called out, "Come on, _go!_ Get there!" as the player on-screen fought for a touchdown. He made it, and Charlie and Bass cheered. Bass threw his arm around Charlie's shoulders, pulling her into him. Then, quickly, he glanced down the bar at Miles and released her. Charlie immediately felt cold, missing the brief feeling of his strong arm holding her.

They watched the rest of the football game together, downing a few more drinks in the process. They talked some about sports, some about the work Charlie was doing in school, some about Philadelphia. Charlie knew better than to bring up the fighting again.

When the game ended, Charlie was still sitting on her barstool, with Bass standing up next to her. As the TV switched to a commercial break, Charlie swung her body around toward Bass. She positioned herself so that each of her legs was on either side of him, leaving him standing between them. Slowly, he turned so that their bodies were square.

"Charlie," Bass said in an exaggeratedly patient voice. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she said innocently, her eyes wide. She took a pull off her beer bottle.

"Really. Because it seems like you're straddling me in the middle of Miles' bar." He made no move to step away.

"Mmm, does it?" she asked tipsily. She lifted her hands and ran them up the front of his thighs and over his stomach, relishing the feel of hard muscle under his soft t-shirt.

Bass bent his head to hers, stepping into her, closing the gap between them. "Yes, it does. You're lucky I just saw your _uncle_," he emphasized, "go back down the hallway that leads to his office." He traced his hands up along Charlie's legs, bringing them around to cup her ass.

"That _is_ lucky," Charlie said flirtatiously, running her hands around Bass' waist then resting her palms flat on his back. "I saw the same thing."

Bass pulled her hard against his body, and she could feel his erection straining through the front of his jeans, pressing into her core. "Of course, he could come back any second."

Charlie shifted her hips against him, certain that she could come, even from that muted friction. She curled her legs around Bass slightly, getting even closer to him, gaining control so that she could rub her body against his.

"Then maybe we shouldn't waste any more time talking," she said, pulling her head back to look at Bass. She licked her lips and parted them slightly. The reserved expression on Bass' face slipped away, replaced by one of hunger and primal need. Moving one of his hands off her ass, he tangled it in the hair at the nape of her neck and held her in place as he covered her mouth with his in a brutal kiss.

Charlie felt like she could scream, it was so perfect. Her mouth opened to his, and he filled her with his tongue, demanding she yield to him. Charlie grasped at Bass' shirt as he rocked his hips into her in a steady, firm rhythm, matching the intensity of his kisses.

Charlie moaned into Bass' mouth, and he pulled away and met her gaze with furious passion. Seeing that she was okay, he immediately resumed kissing her, pushing his hips into her with even more force. Suddenly, Charlie felt the tension in her body building rapidly, and she began to lose control. As she felt her orgasm take her over, she pulled away from Bass' kiss to gasp and cry out in his ear, "Oh God, Bass, I'm... Oh God… Bass!" She rode out her orgasm, burying her face in his neck, her hips bucking involuntarily into him.

When Charlie had finished, Bass released his grip on her and turned away slightly. Bending down to her, he murmured, "That's even sexier in person than it is on the phone."

Charlie laughed shortly, her face burning with embarrassment. Had she actually just humped herself to orgasm on him in the middle of the bar? He had to think she was a complete freak. Daring to look up at him, afraid of what she would see, Charlie found him watching her in awe, appreciation, and pure, animal lust. Her eyes dropped to his crotch, and the evidence of his want for her was there, too.

Behind Bass, she saw Miles emerge from the hallway on the other side of the bar. "We're about to have company," she warned, and Bass followed her gaze, cursing when he saw Miles.

"I'm going outside for a smoke," he said. "Meet me out there in two minutes."

"But I don't smoke," Charlie protested as he turned to leave.

"Neither do I," Bass called back over his shoulder. She watched him disappear out the front door of the bar just as Miles walked up.

"Where's Bass going?" he asked.

"Out for a smoke," Charlie said. Downing the rest of her beer, she added, "Think I'll get some fresh air, too." Before Miles could comment, she hopped off her barstool, landing on shaky legs. She felt slick wetness, sloppy in her underwear as she walked out of the bar.

The street outside was busy, with groups waiting to enter the bar, smokers puffing away, and the bouncer watching over everything. Charlie spotted Bass standing tensely about twenty feet away. When she reached him, he grabbed her hand and led her further down the street. Then he pulled her into the narrow space between two buildings.

Immediately, he wrapped her in a full embrace, kissing her desperately. Bass buried one hand in her hair, as before, and he used his other than to take one of hers and guide it onto the hard ridge of his cock. Charlie needed no further prompting, as she ran her hand firmly over the front of his jeans, pulling a deep groan from his throat. She gripped him through the worn denim, in awe of his thickness and length. She tried to mold her hand to his contours, but it was awkward touching him this way. Charlie wanted to feel him, hot and needy in her palm.

Charlie moved her hand off of him, paused as her fingers grazed his fly. "Can I?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bass said, his eyes intent on her movements, his breathing labored.

Charlie flicked open the button and lowered the zipper, pulling his cock free of his jeans and boxers. Bass sucked in his breath as she worked her hand over his bare flesh. He was far more than a handful, and Charlie touched him aggressively, giving him friction, loving how he stiffened even more in her hands. Bass emitted quiet moans, turning her on beyond all imagining.

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed by a need to taste him. Charlie dropped to her knees. Wetting her lips, she guided him into her mouth, opening wide and taking his entire length in one stroke. Bass cried out incoherently at this, doubling forward, catching his hands in her hair. Charlie pulled her mouth off him, then plunged back down, jamming him into her throat, messy strings of saliva falling from her lips.

She kept one hand on Bass' cock, running it up and over the slicked head. Her other hand, she plunged into her pants, finding her wet center, rubbing herself as she pleasured him. Charlie took Bass' cock back into her mouth, jerking and sucking him vigorously, almost violently.

With a few deep gasps, and a final, crescendoing groan, Bass came for her, shooting his warm cum hard into her mouth. Charlie swallowed it eagerly, loving the evidence of his climax, not minding the taste because it was him. Primly, once she'd swallowed it all, she slid his penis out of her mouth, smoothly closing her lips over the tip, leaving him as clean as possible.

Charlie got to her feet, and Bass fastened his pants. He slumped back against the building behind him, staring at her, the picture of a man drained and sated. She stared back, one hip cocked to the side, arms crossed, mouth quirked in a smug smile.

"Fuck," Bass finally said, still breathing hard. "That's sure as _hell_ sexier in person than on the phone."

"We better get back inside," was Charlie's response. "It doesn't take this long to smoke a cigarette."

Bass peeled himself off the wall and stood up straight, but shook his head. "I can't face your uncle after that. I'll either look too guilty or too satisfied, and neither would be good. I think I'll just head out."

Charlie frowned, and he assured her, "I want to see you again, Charlie. Really soon." Smiling slightly, he added, "I'll call you." Then he was gone.

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Bass didn't call. Friday and Saturday came and went without her hearing from him. Charlie had even turned down an invitation from some classmates to go see a play, wanting to be home for him to reach her. As she went to bed Saturday night, Charlie kicked herself for being so stupid. For putting her life on hold for a man Miles had basically told her never saw the same woman twice.

Sunday morning, Charlie was in a wretched mood as she had coffee and dry toast with Miles. Miles, who was also crankier than usual because his day manager was on vacation, and that meant Miles had to go in on a Sunday. He glared at Charlie. "You're getting crumbs on the table."

He eyes shot daggers back at him. Smiling mock-sweetly, she swept the crumbs onto the floor. "There we go!" she said. "All better." Miles just glared some more.

A knock at the door startled them both. Miles heaved a sigh and got up to answer it. Charlie heard the door open, then, "Bass? What are you doing here?" Charlie's heart leapt. Bass was here! She glanced down at her baggy t-shirt, sweatpants, and unshowered body. Shit, Bass was here. She tensed, prepared to run and hide in her room, but their voices were already right outside the kitchen.

"Um, I'm here to pick you up for the game?" Charlie heard Bass saying as they walked in.

"I told you I have to work this Sunday. Len's on vacation? Any of this ringing a bell?" Miles said bitterly, clearly unhappy about the reminder of the fun he was going to be missing.

Bass slapped his forehead theatrically. "You _did_ say that. Shit, man, sorry. I totally forgot. This sucks."

"No kidding," Miles said dryly.

"Well, what am I gonna do with your ticket? I don't want to sell it to some weirdo. If I'd remembered that you were out for this week, maybe I could have asked Flora if she wanted it…"

Miles looked at Bass like he was insane. "Flora? You hate Flora. You haven't spoken to Flora in months." Sitting back down across from Charlie and picking up his coffee cup, Miles gestured at her with it, saying, "Take Charlie. She likes the Bears. Don't you, Charlie?"

"I like the Bears," she repeated idiotically. What the hell was happening here? Did Miles really just tell Bass to take her to a football game?

"Oh, you do?" Bass said to Charlie, his voice laden with surprise. "Well. Okay. If you want to come."

Charlie saw a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, and she realized he'd planned this whole thing. She had to fight down a grin of her own as she answered. "Sure."

"She wants to," Miles affirmed. "God knows all she's done this weekend is sit around here, hiding in her room with the cordless phone."

Charlie met Bass' eyes, humiliated, but he just smiled at her. "Great," he said. "I'll just hang out while you get ready. Unless you want to go like that." He gestured at her pajamas.

Giving him a put-upon look, Charlie stood and grabbed her coffee. "I'll just be a minute," she said, hustling out of the room. To go get ready for her date with Bass.


	3. Chapter 3

As Charlie showered, she was acutely aware of Bass just a couple of rooms away from her naked, wet body. She dressed in comfortable jeans and a tight women's-style Bears jersey, and wore just enough makeup to be cute but still sporty. She left her hair down in damp waves to air dry.

When she stepped back into the kitchen, Bass was alone. He rose to his feet to meet her. "Miles?" she asked.

"Left for work," he answered, as they stepped into each other's arms, pulled by a force as natural and undeniable as breathing.

Much as she wanted to kiss him, lose herself in him, Charlie made herself say, "You didn't call."

Bass squeezed her into him, looking down at her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin. "I had two nights of fights. They were pretty brutal, and I was just exhausted. But I'm sorry. I should have called." Only then did Charlie see the various lacerations on Bass' face, neck and arms. The small cut on his lip. She reached her hand up and ran her thumb over it. In response, he sucked her thumb into his mouth, then released it, moving his lips toward hers.

Even in this middle of the day, stone cold sober, in her uncle's very unsexy kitchen, kissing Bass Monroe made Charlie feel like she might lose her mind. The kiss quickly deepened as their tongues tangled. Their hands groped each other, and their bodies pressed together, unable to get enough of each other. After a few minutes, Bass pulled away from her with a groan.

Ruefully, he said, "Much as I'd love to spend the afternoon here fucking you, if we don't actually go to this game, Miles will wonder why."

Charlie was mildly shocked at his vulgarity, but it thrilled her too, hearing him baldly state his intentions, how much he wanted her. As much as she wanted him. "Guess we better go, then," she said, knowing he was right.

Instead of releasing her, Bass pulled her into one more urgent kiss. Just as it, too, threatened to spiral out of control, he broke away again. "Fuck!" he muttered. "Okay, we really need to go."

Charlie laughed a little and let him lead the way, locking up behind them as they left. Bass was parked on the street outside the building. Charlie raised her eyebrows at him as he stopped at a black 7-series BMW. She wasn't really into cars, but she knew enough to be impressed. Bass pretended not to notice, opening her door for her so she could slide in.

The football game was amazing. Charlie couldn't remember ever having such a good time on a first date. Even though, she kept reminding herself, this wasn't a date. Bass had basically taken her because he didn't have anyone else to go with. But whatever the reason for it, she was enjoying the time they were spending together.

Bass was actually really funny. And the Bears were playing terribly, which just made him funnier as he grew more and more disgruntled. Charlie cracked up when he referred to the defense as "a bunch of useless shitheads." When the Bears running back managed to score a touchdown to bring the game a little closer, he grumbled cynically that, "He's so good, he can outrun any Buccaneers defense in the league." The more Bass complained, the more Charlie teased him, until she was sure he was exaggerating his discontent for her amusement.

Better yet, the Bears started to turn things around toward the end of the game. The stadium stayed packed full and energized, the fans hoping for the team to come back. Charlie and Bass were on their feet, cheering. At one point, out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw Bass watching her, his face a mixture of thoughtfulness and sadness. When she turned to look at him, the expression was gone, replaced with an easy smile.

The Bears did pull out the win, and Charlie and Bass filed out with the massive crowds leaving the stadium, in no hurry to go anywhere. Once they were finally back in the car, the sun was setting. Bass pulled onto the highway and said, "Want to go grab dinner somewhere?"

Charlie shrugged. "I'm not really hungry."

"Alright, then… I'll take you back to Miles' place."

Charlie said in a rush, "You don't have to. We could go… back to your place." She couldn't believe how nervous she was, after their effortless banter all afternoon.

Bass stared ahead, shifting gears on the car. "Charlie…" he said. "I want to. Believe me, I do."

"So let's go."

Bass sighed. "I'm trying to figure out what to do here. You're Miles' _niece_."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "You didn't seem too concerned about that when I was blowing you in an alley the other night," she snarked.

Bass cut his eyes over toward her, then focused back on the road. "I know. I wasn't. But it hit me today. Miles _trusts _me. Trusts me with what is most precious to him in the world, which by the way, just happens to be you. As it is, if he knew what I'd done..."

"So what are you saying?" Charlie said, dreading the answer she could sense was coming.

"I don't think we should keep seeing each other. It was a mistake for me to let this go as far as it has," Bass replied, his voice carefully controlled.

Charlie felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Laughing to cover up how devastated she was, she said, "Wow. I've had bad first dates before, but usually the guy waits at least a day before telling me he never wants to see me again."

"You think this was a bad first date?" Bass asked, reaching over and taking her hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he kissed each of her fingers softly in turn, sending her head spinning.

"You don't?"

Setting her hand back in her lap, he said, "No. I don't. Of course I don't. You're the first woman in a long time that I've-" he cut himself off, squeezing his hand hard on the steering wheel.

"That you've what?"

"It doesn't matter," he said in a low voice. "Today was fun, and I'm grateful to Miles for suggesting it. That's all."

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Bass pulled over, throwing the car into park. Charlie felt helpless. She didn't want the day-any of this-to end, but she saw she had no choice. Searchingly, she looked at him. "Bass," she said.

He turned to her, staring her down, his eyes full of pain that mirrored her own. "Don't do this," she whispered. He turned away without answering. Charlie opened the door and slid out of the car. The evening air that had felt merely brisk when they had gotten in now seemed intolerably cold. She shivered and went inside, not looking back.

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The next Thursday, Charlie was hanging out at Miles' bar again. She couldn't get Bass out of her head. How it had felt to kiss him, to have him hold her, how much he turned her on. But more than that, how happy she'd been just talking to him, spending time with him. She'd never felt such an immediate connection with a man before. And then he'd just yanked it away. Even Miles had noticed how miserable she was, but she convinced him it was because of stress about school.

Her misery alternated with anger. How could Bass be such a coward? If he didn't want to be with her, he shouldn't use Miles as an excuse. And if he did, he should own that, too. It was really simple, even if he wanted to make it complicated.

It had been four days since she saw him. She couldn't believe how hard it was to get over someone who she'd only really been out with once. But Bass Monroe had gotten under her skin. She wanted him back. Wanted him so badly it hurt.

Charlie took another long pull of her beer. Despite her best efforts to get drunk, to dull the pain, she was still clear-headed. Bored, she glanced around the bar. It was nearly 2 a.m. The place was practically empty. Miles would be closing soon, and she could finally go home. She'd ridden over with him that afternoon and had hung out for his whole shift. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, a distraction.

Charlie jumped as the phone behind the bar rang, shrill in the quiet room. Miles strode over and picked it up. Charlie watched him grow agitated at whatever the person on the other end was saying and respond with a few terse words before slamming the phone back in its cradle. Quickly, he walked over to the bartender on duty, and they talked briefly. Miles handed him a key before returning to Charlie.

"I have to go get Bass," he said. Charlie's heart soared at the sound of his name, at the possibility of seeing him.

"Okay, let's go," she said, hopping off her barstool, picking up her purse.

"Not you. He's at the bar where he fights. I'm not taking you there."

"Uh, what exactly am I going to do, then?" she said, annoyed. "Wait around here alone at two in the morning? Pay a fortune to take a cab halfway across the city? I'm coming with you."

"Charlie, no, it's out of the question." Miles frowned, glancing at the door, impatiently fingering the car keys in his hand.

Charlie crossed her arms stubbornly. "Your friend needs you. Do you want to waste time on an argument you're going to lose anyway, or do you want to go get him?"

Miles couldn't have known why she was so determined to see Bass, but her tone must have conveyed that she was serious. He jerked his head backward. "Okay, come on." They hurried through the bar, out the back door to Miles' beat up SUV.

The roads around them were quiet and got more deserted as they drove further from downtown. Charlie took mental note of their surroundings in the unfamiliar neighborhoods. She prided herself on her skill at navigating and finding places, not that it was so terribly useful in the age of GPS.

"So what happened?" she finally asked.

"That was Flora," Miles said. "She tends bar at the place where Bass fights. Says he's fought every night since Sunday, which is just insane. Usually he does maybe a couple nights in a row at most." Miles' face was etched with worry. "Anyway, Flora said he's about to do his second one tonight." He pressed the accelerator harder. "She's afraid he's going to get seriously hurt. Or killed."

"You really think it's that bad?" Charlie asked skeptically. "Don't you think Bass can handle himself?" She wanted to believe he would be fine, that there was nothing to fear.

"Well, in all the time Bass has been fighting there, Flora has never called me. I don't even know how she found the number for the bar. So yeah, I'd say it's pretty bad."

Charlie was silent. As they continued driving, the buildings and streets grew shabbier around them, the street lights more spread out. There was trash piled everywhere, boarded up windows, rusted out signs. Charlie noted every street sign, every turn, instinctively. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't help thinking, she was going to find out where Bass fought. She was going to know where to find him.

Finally, they stopped. Charlie saw Bass' car gleaming down the street, sticking out like it had a spotlight on it. She also saw a teenage kid lurking nearby, watching them warily. Miles parked haphazardly. Charlie scrambled behind him as he made his way up the block to an unmarked door with a lantern-style light above it, its buzzing audible on the otherwise eerily silent street.

Miles opened the door, and the din of a mass of people immersed in conversation and hours of drink hit Charlie's ears. There was no bouncer, no one checking IDs, just a crowd snaking its way back toward the bar in the back of the room. Next to the bar, there was a door painted glossy black, with a rendering of a grinning red devil above it.

Wasting no time, Miles pushed through the crowd toward the bar and called out, "Flora!" The bartender turned around. She was a tiny black woman with delicate, beautiful features, toughened by several facial piercings and a neck tattoo. Her skintight leather pants and bustier left little to the imagination. Charlie fought down her jealousy, realizing that this was the Flora that Bass had referred to on Sunday.

Catching Miles' eye, Flora pointed toward the black door, and Charlie saw more than heard her say, "He's back there." Miles nodded, waved his thanks, and pushed his way over to the door. This one did have a bouncer, a mountain of a man who glowered at them as they approached but said nothing.

"We're here to see Bass Monroe," Miles said impatiently, pulling out his wallet, seemingly having done this before.

"Hundred," the bouncer said shortly. Miles pulled off the bills and handed them over. The bouncer shifted back almost imperceptibly, indicating they could proceed.

As they entered the back room, they were accosted by the sound of rowdy drunks, and the smell of weed, booze, sweat, and blood. Charlie coughed slightly. Her presence caused a ripple in the crowd, and she quickly realized she was the only woman in sight.

"Hey babe, how much for me to suck your pussy?" a leering guy a few feet away called in a scratchy voice. The guy next to him turned and, catching sight of her, said, "Forget him, girl, I'll give you a ride, where you want to go," and cracked up at himself. Beyond them, about ten feet away, a red-faced man with a bushy gray beard let out a loud wolf whistle, patting his thigh appreciatively and nudging his companion, who also turned to gape at Charlie.

Miles looked positively murderous as he flung a protective arm around Charlie and steered her over to the bar in this room, the mirror image of the one in the front. Sure enough, as Miles had seemed to expect, that was where they found Bass, sitting with his back toward them at the end of the bar.

"Bass," Miles said to his back. Bass tensed visibly before turning around and standing to face them.

Charlie had not been prepared for this. For Bass Monroe, the fighter. Even had Flora not told them, it would have been obvious he'd already fought that night. He was covered with sweat and blood. And shirtless, wearing only gray slacks that hung low on his hips. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as she took in the sight of his bare chest, arms, abs-all cut muscle and smooth skin. He was perfection. Charlie's fingertips twitched as she longed to touch him, to press herself against him, the way she had the week before, but with far fewer clothes.

Bass' face had been resigned as he turned around, but when he caught sight of Charlie, his expression morphed to one of absolute fury. "You brought _her_ here?" he demanded of Miles, clenching his fists. "What the fuck?"

"What the _fuck_ is, Flora called me," Miles half-shouted, just as furious. "Five nights in a row fighting? Are you insane? Is this," Miles gestured at Bass' battered body, "why you haven't spoken to me all week?"

Charlie looked closer and saw what he meant. There were nasty purple and yellow bruises running up and down Bass' torso. One of his hands was bandaged. Cuts and scrapes and scratches were scattered across his flesh.

"You shouldn't be here," Bass said darkly. "Just get the fuck out."

"Bass, you've got to slow down," Miles pleaded. "You're going to get yourself killed. Whatever's going on, this self-destructive bullshit isn't the answer."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what it was." Bass stared straight at Miles, but Charlie could feel his awareness of her presence, same as hers of him.

Miles stepped toward the door. "Come on. We're going. Now."

Over their heads, an ancient PA system crackled to life and announced, "Monroe and Carpenter. Now in the arena. Monroe/Carpenter. Last call for bets."

Monroe raised his eyebrows at Miles defiantly. "Looks like you're a little late, brother. Enjoy the fight." Addressing Charlie but not quite looking at her, he added, "It's not too late to get a bet in."

"Fuck!" Miles exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the bar once Bass had gone. Charlie watched Miles, waiting for a cue as to what they should do next. Shaking his head, he walked over to the area that constituted the "arena," really no more than a cleared off patch of concrete around which the crowd pressed eagerly.

From the beginning of the fight, it was obvious there was something wrong with Bass. Charlie had never seen him fight before, but she could see his jitteriness in the way he moved, rocked back and forth between his feet. He and Carpenter started toward each other, and Bass ducked half-heartedly as Carpenter swung at him. Bass ducked once, twice, not returning a blow. Finally, on his third try, Carpenter landed a crushing blow to Bass' ribcage. Bass careened back a couple steps, a grim smile on his face. He took another couple of blows to the side and stomach, barely moving to defend himself.

Finally, he seemed to have taken enough. Bass sprang into action, pummeling Carpenter quickly in the face. Carpenter gave it back, then quickly swept his foot under Bass, trying to take out his legs. Bass sidestepped him neatly, then pounced on him, tackling him to the ground. He and Carpenter wrestled for several seconds, fighting for the upper hand. Carpenter pinned Bass, closing his hands around his throat for several seconds. Bass swiped at him, once, twice, then grabbed his arms, pulling Carpenter off him, flipping him down onto the ground. Quickly, Bass rained blows down on him, shouting with pain and stress. Finally, Carpenter went limp below him, and Bass rolled off him, lying on the ground panting.

Slowly, Bass staggered to his feet, and the short man who served as the referee grabbed his wrist. Raising his arm in the air, he announced, "Your winner, Sebastian Monroe!" Bass nodded wearily, pulling his arm back. Then, his knees buckled and he collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Miles sprang forward. "Shit," he said, running to Bass' side. Charlie was close behind him and watched as he revived Bass enough to get him back to his feet. "Who has his stuff?" Miles demanded of the referee, who looked at him blankly. "His _keys_, his wallet, where is his SHIT?" The man held up a finger and scurried off.

Charlie and Miles supported Bass and took him out to the truck, laying him across the back seat. The referee brought his stuff out to them, and they got out of there as quickly as possible. "What about his car?" Charlie asked.

"Fuck Bass' car," Miles said. "He should have fucking thought of that before he got himself beat unconscious." He was clearly livid.

They were silent for the entire drive back to Miles' place, each lost in their own thoughts. Charlie couldn't help thinking that Bass had been fighting because of her. It was wrong, it was twisted, but she was perversely glad to know that he felt something. That he hadn't just walked away and forgotten about her. That maybe he was as torn up about it as she was.

As they pulled up in front of Miles' place, they heard Bass groan from the back seat. "What the hell? I thought you were taking me home."

Miles spun around to look at Bass in the back seat. "No. I don't know what you're punishing yourself for this time, but I'm not letting it happen. You're staying here until I know that the next call I get to come pick you up won't be from the _morgue_."

Bass had no response. Slowly, painfully, he got out of the truck and followed them upstairs. He collapsed on the couch when they got upstairs and closed his eyes. Charlie cast him a concerned look, hoping he was okay, wanting to go to him, to hold him. But of course, she couldn't.

Miles misinterpreted her look of worry. "Charlie, it's fine. He's only a danger to himself. He won't hurt either of us." Astonished, she couldn't respond, keeping her eyes on Bass. He appeared to have fallen asleep.

"'Night, Miles," Charlie said, going to her room, suddenly feeling very tired.

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Despite her fatigue, Charlie couldn't sleep. She was tormented with thoughts of Bass, lying just one room away. She needed to see him. Throwing her covers back, she slipped out of her bed and opened the door to her room. Moving as quietly as possible, she crept down the hallway, then stopped in the shadows at the entrance to the living room, listening for Bass' breathing.

"You might as well come the rest of the way in," he said. As Charlie moved closer, she saw he was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Standing over him felt awkward, so she crouched down, sitting on her heels.

"What is it?" Bass said, still not looking at her.

Charlie didn't know how to respond for several seconds. Then she asked quietly, "It's me, isn't it? That's what you're punishing yourself for." She bent forward and laid her head on Bass' chest, praying he wouldn't push her away. Bass sighed and curled one arm loosely around her waist but didn't answer. Charlie protested, "You didn't do anything wrong."

Bass cut her off. "Don't. Your uncle told you earlier tonight that I would never hurt either of you. He believes that. But what he doesn't know is I already have." He suddenly dropped his arm from around her and added, "I am not a good man, Charlie."

"You didn't hurt me. Being apart from you hurts, but it's not the same thing. But if you're doing all of this because of Miles… do you think this is what he wants? You getting beat up every night as some kind of penance?" Bass breathed in and out deeply but didn't answer.

Charlie continued, "And what about what you want? What about… what I want?" She lifted her hand, resting it gently on his bare stomach, slowly rubbing across the taut muscle there.

When Bass didn't object, she gave in to a sudden urge, turning and licking his skin with the flat of her tongue. He tasted amazing: like sweat and salt and musk… like _him_.

Bass groaned and squeezed her waist tightly. "Stop." Ignoring his plea, she licked his chest again, trailing her tongue up over his collarbone, up his jugular, finishing behind his ear. She took his earlobe and flicked it with her tongue, then sucked it into her mouth, humming softly.

Bass threw his head back and pleaded, "Charlie, fuck. Stop."

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't get enough of you." Pulling back to look into his eyes, she saw mirrored in them her own overwhelming desire. Her lips were just millimeters from his, so close she could feel her own breath as she whispered, "Don't you think you've punished yourself enough?"

Hesitating for a few seconds, then moving almost imperceptibly closer to her, Bass finally pressed his lips to hers, tentatively at first, then with growing intensity. Charlie felt dizzy as the kiss deepened, every cell in her body crying out that, yes, this was what she needed. She pulled herself up onto the couch beside Bass, rolling half on top of him. Shifting his body, he moved her so her body covered his, flesh pressing into flesh as she sprawled across his bare chest. Suddenly, her nightshirt felt so thin it was nonexistent.

Bass seemed to be making up for the days they had spent apart, touching as much of her as he could reach, plunging his tongue into her mouth, crushing her tightly against him. Charlie relished the feel of his muscles beneath her, holding her as if she weighed nothing, coiling and flexing as he moved.

"Is this it, Charlie?" Bass asked in a growl. "This is what you want? Me? Here? Now?" She could feel his hardness between them. There was no mistaking what he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I want you, please," she begged. Bass captured her mouth in another kiss, moving his hands down her body, up under the hem of her nightshirt, over the curve of her ass. He groaned when he felt that she wasn't wearing any panties and reached his hand around behind her, penetrating her folds, feeling her. She leaned into his touch, letting out a soft cry of pleasure.

"You're so wet," he said roughly.

"For you, Bass," she said, arching her body into him, dragging her breasts across his chest, desperate for friction. "Always, for you."

Reaching between them, Bass opened his pants and pulled them partway down his hips. Charlie raised herself off him, giving him room to maneuver out of them. When he was naked, she lowered herself back down, centering his cock between her legs, rubbing him against her slit. Back and forth she moved, coating him with her moisture, feeling him stiffen even more beneath her. Bass had his hands on her ass, holding her as she moved against him. His cock below her felt hot and impossibly hard.

Staying bent close to Bass, Charlie reached down and wrapped one hand around his cock, pulling it toward her. Lifting herself up slightly, she lined him up with her entrance and sank down, finally filling herself completely with him, taking him into her core. She was so wet, so ready, he slid in smoothly, like they were made for each other. Charlie spread her legs she grinded down into him desperately, wanting him as deep as possible.

For a few seconds, she let her body adjust to his size, then she moved, rolling her hips on him, firing off new sensations of pleasure. She rolled her hips again, fucking him, catching her clit on his public bone, causing her to let out a shuddering "ohhhh" of ecstasy.

Charlie looked at Bass. He was staring her, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted, like a man seeing the sun for the first time. Like he was afraid to blink because it might all be a dream. She stared back for a beat, her heart thudding in her chest. Then she quickly bent to kiss him again, moving against him urgently.

Finally, Bass moved too, pushing his cock deeper inside her, pulling her ass into him as he thrust up, making her feel like he was filling every inch of her, like he might break her in half, except it felt so good. Charlie shifted slightly, and he was hitting that place inside her that she needed him most. As she got close, she began to moan. He warned her.

"Quiet, Charlie. Come for me, but quietly." She did. Her body shook as she came on his cock, shuddering and grabbing into his biceps for support, the only sound she made her gasps for air. She worked herself up and down on him, riding the aftershocks of her orgasm, soaking them both in her juices.

As she slowed down, he sped up and wrapped both his strong arms around her waist, pumping into her hard, relentless. She could feel him getting rock hard inside her as he got close, his movements growing more frantic. "Come inside me," she murmured in his ear, pushing down on him. "I want to feel your cum inside me."

Pursing his lips hard, squeezing his eyes shut, Bass swallowed a groan and thrust his cock up into Charlie one last time as he came. She felt him pulsing inside her, felt his muscles contract and then relax as he finished. They lay there for several minutes, staying as close to each other as possible, Bass' cock still inside her, Charlie resting all her weight on him.

After a few minutes, Charlie raised her head up and looked at Bass. He was giving her that awestricken look again. "Are you done feeling guilty?" she asked him with a teasing smile.

His eyes flashed with pain. "I don't know."

"But you're done saying no to me."

Bass groaned, dropping his head back into the couch pillow. "Somehow I keep thinking of the phrase 'give me my sin again.'"

Charlie took that as her answer and smiled, falling back onto him, promising, "I will."

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**A/N: I love your reviews, thank you so much, I read and appreciate every one. It's so nice to know what is working, especially taking Charloe AU… it's a lot of fun. I've got at least one more chapter already written, and several more twists and turns planned out. Can't wait to share it with y'all! **


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie woke up to sun streaming through the living room window. She was still on top of Bass, the way they'd fallen asleep. At some point, he'd pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them, and it was deliciously warm being snuggled against him. She couldn't help noticing the very impressive morning wood that was obvious between them, and she felt rather than saw that Bass was waking up, too. Sleepily, they began moving against each other. Charlie was still lubricated from the night before, and Bass lazily slipped inside her, rocking back and forth underneath her.

Their hazy morning sex was nothing like that of the night before. It was slow, smooth, unhurried. Charlie felt her climax building unexpectedly, given that she was barely moving, just tilting her pelvis into Bass as he thrust up to meet her. He captured her lips in a soft kiss, and she began to move more deliberately, chasing her orgasm that was just about in reach…

The sound of Miles loudly clearing his throat was like a bucket of ice water being thrown on them. Charlie nearly had a heart attack, until she ascertained that Miles was still in the bathroom that attached to his bedroom and thank god hadn't seen them. She sprang off of Bass and onto her feet, pulling down her nightshirt. Without looking back at Bass, she flew into her room and shut the door behind her as quietly as possible.

Once her panic had subsided, a fit of laughter overtook her, and she covered her mouth to stifle the sound. The whole situation was ridiculous. Bass out there probably still with a raging hard on, Miles puttering around in his bathroom completely oblivious, her racing around the apartment like a lunatic, covering her bare ass with her nightshirt. She leaned back against her closed door and sighed, a smile still on her face. _Better laugh while I still can_, she thought. If Miles found out what had happened between her and Bass—what she hoped would happen again and again and again—there would be nothing funny about it.

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Several hours later, Charlie had finally managed to get a little bit of sleep but woke up with a raging caffeine withdrawal headache. There was no putting off facing Miles and Bass. She pulled on some form-fitting yoga pants and a tank top, and paused at her mirror to wipe the drool stains off her mouth before going out to the kitchen.

Bass and Miles were sitting in tense silence, reading their sections of the newspaper. As he caught sight of Charlie, Bass' face softened, and he looked at her affectionately for a couple seconds before catching himself and turning back to study his paper. Miles greeted Charlie with, "You slept late enough."

Charlie halted. "Uh, sorry? Were you waiting for me?"

In response, Miles asked, "Are you coming to the bar with me again today? We gotta go get Bass' car first, so we're leaving soon. Then I'm going to put his sorry ass to work for the trouble he caused me last night." Miles smiled a rare pre-noon smile.

Charlie caught sight of Bass staring at her again. When she glanced at him, he shook his head subtly: _no_. She guessed he thought it would be too stressful to spend the entire day with her and Miles under the same roof. She smirked slightly and said, "I'd love to, Miles." Bass' hands clutched at his newspaper, and she held back a giggle, adding, "But I really should get some studying in. I've been slacking all week."

Bass rolled his eyes, and Miles stood up. "Alright. In that case, we're leaving now." When Bass didn't move, Miles grabbed his elbow and pulled him to a standing position, "Now!"

"Jesus, hey, I haven't even finished my coffee!" Bass objected, setting his mug down reluctantly, looking extremely put out. Charlie recognized one of her uncle's Henley shirts on him.

"We have coffee at the bar. Let's go."

"Great, disgusting bar coffee," Bass mumbled, disgruntled. Miles ignored him and pushed him out of the kitchen.

"See you later, Charlie!" Miles called over his shoulder. She heard the door slam. Shaking her head, Charlie made her way over to the coffee pot.

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Charlie spent the day catching up on reading. The professor she was working with had asked her to review some recently-published articles regarding the global context of the American Revolution. She loved the intrigue of politics and war, especially with the benefit of hindsight to know whose strategies had been best, who had prevailed. Charlie devoured the articles eagerly, and then she reluctantly turned to her reading for a course about the philosophy of biology. She found discussions of why organisms adapted and behaved the way they did exhausting. Wasn't it enough to say that nature worked the way it did without assigning it some kind of higher consciousness? That night, Charlie went to bed earlier than she had in days, finally able to relax, no longer fretting about Bass. She knew that Miles would make sure he didn't get into any trouble.

Charlie awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of her door swinging open and blue light streaming in. Her heart raced as she saw the outline of Bass standing at the threshold to her room. "You might as well come the rest of the way in," she said, borrowing his line from the night before.

Bass needed no further encouragement, quietly closing the door behind him and striding over to her bed. Kicking his shoes off, he sat down on top of the covers, next to her. "Hey," he said in greeting.

"Aren't you cold?" she replied groggily, yanking on the blankets under him. He laughed at her and hopped up, pulling the covers back and sliding in with her.

"Better?" he asked.

"I'm just thinking of you, you're the one who's been outside," she said, molding herself to him, tracing her bare feet up his jean-clad legs. "How was the bar?"

"Ugh," Bass said. "I hate it when Miles is pissed off. He has no mercy. I must have washed five hundred pint glasses."

Charlie squeezed him. "Poor you." She carefully avoided discussing her uncle being mad at them, not wanting Bass to retreat from her again.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But it wasn't so bad. He had me tend bar, and I got some pretty good tips. Women love me." Charlie listened for some hint of irony in his voice but heard none.

"Oh god," she said. "You're actually serious." Arrogance was sexy to a point, but she still felt she had to give him a hard time.

"Miles and I have this awesome routine we do," Bass explained. "If the right song comes on, we act like we're passing an invisible ball back and forth. We'll roll it around our shoulders, toss it in the air, catch it in our mouths…" He moved his arm around, demonstrating for Charlie. "It's bad ass."

Charlie sat for a few seconds in stunned silence, then said, "That is probably the lamest thing I have ever heard. Ever." She started cracking up.

"Hey! No! You have to see it with both of us!" Bass protested, then started laughing too, rolling Charlie onto her back. "Shhhh," he said with a teasing smile, covering his mouth with hers in a kiss. Charlie hummed with pleasure as he pressed her into the bed with his weight, holding her tightly as his tongue explored hers. She ran her hands up under his shirt, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. Bass leaned over and whipped his shirt off over his head, settling back in over her, kissing her neck softly, making her moan.

"Is… he asleep?" she asked, not wanting to say Miles' name, nor make his presence just down the hall seem too real.

"Yeah," Bass said, pausing in his attentions to her neck. "We've been back for about an hour. I waited. A." He kissed her. "Long." He kissed her again. "Time." Bass sucked hard on her neck, and she cried out, the spasm of pain shooting right down to the nerves between her legs, making her instantly aroused.

"You like it when it hurts." It was a statement, not a question. She breathed raggedly, not responding. Groaning, he kissed his way down her neck, down her chest, impatiently pulling up her tank top to reveal her breasts, then pulling it all the way off her. "Ahh, yeah, fuck," he said as she laid before him half naked. He lowered his head to one nipple and took the other between his fingers, greedily palming the flesh there. Charlie pushed into him, feeling her wetness building. As he worked over her breasts, Charlie reached down and pushed her pajama shorts down and off, so she was completely naked.

Bass ran his hand down her body, feeling that she was naked, tracing his fingers lightly through the curls between her legs. Charlie tugged at his belt, her unspoken message: _you're wearing too many clothes_. Obligingly, Bass rolled to his side and removed his jeans and underwear. Charlie pressed herself into Bass, savoring the feel of their legs entwining, their torsos moving as one as they breathed hard, her bare arms around Bass' shoulders.

Bass disentangled himself from her and sat back, moving as if to crouch between her legs. Charlie put a hand behind his neck, stopped him. "Bass, can you just… can you stay here? I want to be close to you. Is that okay?"

A slight laugh in his voice, he said, "Yeah, that's okay," and he covered her with his body again, kissing her tenderly. Charlie felt his hot arousal against her thigh and spread her legs apart so he was between them.

Bass pressed his pelvis forward, the head of his cock aligning with her opening, sliding into place. Not touching himself, he patiently, slowly worked his penis into Charlie, as she writhed and keened beneath him, urging him deeper, her slick folds yielding to him. Finally, he slid all the way inside her, burying himself to the hilt, and Charlie gasped. Bass withdrew, pushed into her again. The friction was heavenly. Charlie threw her head back into her pillow.

After a few minutes, Charlie needed more of Bass, deeper. Pushing him up slightly, she sat against the headboard and then turned around. Now on her stomach, leaning up on her elbows, she looked over her shoulder at Bass. He gave her a heated stare, stroking himself slowly, then lowering himself over her, entered her from behind.

Charlie bit her lip hard to stifle a cry. From this angle, Bass felt huge inside her. She could feel every thick inch working in and out of her, and she heard his breath speeding up. Quickly, she pushed a hand underneath herself to tease her clit as Bass pounded into her, his thrusts growing deeper, more deliberate.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned. "Charlie…" She could hear the warning in his voice, pushed back against him, seeking her release. Finally, she found it, her nerve endings exploding in pleasure. She sighed vocally and felt Bass' hands gripping her hips hard for leverage. A few more smooth strokes, and she felt him come, pushing into her hard. Immediately, he rolled over to the side and collapsed, facing her.

As Charlie looked up at him, he put a hand on her cheek and pulled her in for a fervent kiss. "Damn," he said. "Damn, damn." Giving her a pointed look, he said, "It's probably a little late to be asking this, but you are on the pill or something, right?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, it is a little late to be asking that. But yes, I am."

He stretched out, not really seeming concerned. "Good. Cause I'm usually a little more careful than this. You make me do all kinds of things I shouldn't."

Charlie scooted closer to him. "Like stay here in my bed all night?" She ran a hand up his bare chest, up his jawline.

Bass shook his head, but pulled her into his arms. "No. Definitely not. Maybe for an hour. Two, at most."

Resting her head on his chest, Charlie breathed, "Works for me."

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On Sunday morning, Miles decreed that Bass could go home. Bass had been planning to have a bunch of friends over that night to watch the Bears game, since they were playing on the road that week. Miles wanted to go and was looking forward to seeing everyone, he said, so he wasn't going to punish himself by making Bass cancel it.

Charlie and Miles walked Bass to the door. "Thanks for the hospitality, brother," Bass said. Then, with more significance, "And for… everything."

Miles clapped him on the back, nodding silently. Bass went on, "See you in a few hours?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Miles said.

"You coming, too, Charlie?" Bass said offhandedly.

Charlie was totally caught off guard—Bass had not even hinted that he would be asking her to join them. "Uh, sure… if Miles doesn't mind giving me a ride."

Miles shrugged, "I don't care. It's just going to be a bunch of old-ass ex-Marines, but if you're up for it, you should definitely come."

_Obviously, I don't have any problem with old-ass ex-Marines, _Charlie thought to herself. She saw Bass' smirk and figured he was thinking along the same lines.

"Hey, don't forget about the old-ass barflys and old-ass gamblers," Bass admonished him. "I have quite a diverse group of friends." With that, he waved with a final "see ya," and ducked out the door.

A few hours later, Charlie and Miles arrived at Bass' condo. As they entered without knocking, Charlie could hear the sound of people talking and laughing already; apparently, they weren't the first to arrive. Bass came around the corner. He looked amazing, Charlie thought, in jeans, a navy button-down, and brown boots. By the way he gawked for a few seconds at Charlie's short red and blue tunic dress, she suspected he felt the same.

"Kind of dressed up for a night sitting around the house," Miles grumbled. He himself looked practically homeless in a stained Bears t-shirt and cargo pants.

Bass laughed, "Yeah, well, after three days of wearing your shit, it's nice to feel like myself again." He held his arms out, showing off the complete package. Miles looked disgusted, and Charlie giggled.

They made their way back to the kitchen, where three people were gathered around the island. "Everyone, this is Miles', uh, niece, Charlie," Bass said awkwardly, pulling open the fridge. "Beers, guys?" They took them, and Bass introduced her around. The tall blonde guy was Jeremy—he had been a Marine with Bass and her uncle. The chubby Asian guy was Rick—he and Bass met through a mutual friend's poker game. The alarmingly beautiful brunette woman was Duncan—she was also a former Marine, who now headed up her own security staffing agency.

As they talked, Duncan's eyes darted between Charlie, Bass, and Miles with increasing amusement. She pursed her lips, suppressing a grin, and asked, "So Charlie, you're visiting Miles?"

"Well, for the semester," Charlie said, nervous. These were Bass' friends. She wanted them to like her. "I'm doing research and taking classes at U Chicago."

Duncan raised her eyebrows. "U Chicago huh? A smart one!" She eyed Bass meaningfully. Bass seemed not to notice.

Charlie, who never knew what to say when someone commented on her intelligence, changed the subject, "And you have your own security firm? That must be interesting."

Duncan grinned proudly. "It's a blast. I mean, I get paid for ordering around hot guys in their 20s. Doesn't get much better than that. Why do you think I joined the Marines?" Everyone laughed at that, and she added, "I'm always trying to get Miles and Bass to partner up with me, but as you know, Miles has a calling helping the masses to imbibe. And Bass… I guess my work just isn't bloody enough for him. Bass doesn't feel alive unless he's getting his hands dirty." She drank smugly from her beer bottle.

"Thank you, for the free psychoanalysis, Duncan," Bass cut in. "Unless someone wants their palm read next, can we move to the other room and put the game on?"

The guys laughed at this and shuffled out. Duncan lingered behind in the kitchen as they filtered out. "Charlie," she called. "Hold on."

Charlie knew what was coming. She wasn't an idiot. She glanced up at Miles, who fortunately was completely absorbed in Bass' demonstration of his new remote control, as were Jeremy and Rick. Then Charlie turned to Duncan, a wary look on her face.

"So Miles doesn't know." Duncan stated, a gleeful smile spread across her face. Charlie saw that there would be no point in trying to deceive this woman.

"He doesn't know," she confirmed.

"I figured, since Bass is still, you know, alive. How serious is it?"

Charlie blushed furiously. "It's not… I mean, we're not… it's nothing."

Duncan's mouth dropped open, the smile never leaving her face. "Oh, my dear. Well then. Okay." She paused, continued, "You know, your uncle talks about you all the time. I mean, practically like you're his own kid." Another pause, and then she added, "Miles is a serious hard-ass. Are you as tough as he is?"

Charlie shrugged. "Tough enough, I guess."

Duncan laughed at that. "Good. Cause you're going to have to be, with that one. He's amazing. Until he's not." Charlie heard a hint of wistfulness in Duncan's voice, then it was gone as she said, "Anyway, I just like gossip. And now, I know gossip!" She bounced over to the men, exclaiming in mock-elation over the new remote, snatching it away from Bass teasingly, and then handing it to Miles, who immediately handed it back over to Bass.

They all arranged themselves in Bass' spacious living room to watch the game. Charlie burrowed in one corner of the couch, trying to stay out of the way and trying not to think about how much she wished it was just she and Bass curled up, watching together. Instead, Miles sat next to her, with Duncan on his other side, flirting with him outrageously. Bass planted himself on a chair he'd pulled in from his dining room.

The group was lively and really into football, which Charlie loved. Nothing frustrated her more than going to game-watching parties where she couldn't actually watch the game because people wanted to talk about politics or flip to reality TV shows during commercial breaks. It also helped that the Bears were playing lights-out football.

As they all got tipsier and the night stretched on, Duncan started making up stupid fan chants and forcing the group do them, even at one point making up dance moves to go along. Charlie had to admire her audacity and laughed along with her. It helped that, while Rick and Jeremy, and to an extent Miles, were clearly impressed with her antics, Bass wasn't. He was not so much into the group cheering, just pumping his fist into the air with a wry smile.

At one point, Bass' phone rang. He picked it up, listened for a second, and handed it to Miles. Miles answered, then asked, "Don't you know it's Sunday night? Can't a man get a night off?" He sighed, looking extremely put-upon, and grumbled, "Okay, I'll be right there." He handed the phone back to Bass and stood up.

"Apparently, there's some emergency at the bar," Miles explained, standing up. "Maggie's locked in the storage closet, and they can't tell whether it locked accidentally or she just won't come out… and she's got all the limes locked in there with her? I have no idea. I'm firing Len."

"You gave them my number?" Bass said disbelievingly.

"It's for emergencies only!" Miles exclaimed, exasperated. "Come on, Charlie, I'll swing you home first."

"What!" Charlie yelped. "There's almost a whole half left!" And she had been looking forward to another couple hours of being in the same room with Bass.

"I'll take her home after the game, Miles," Bass offered. "It's no problem." Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw Duncan cover her face with a couch pillow and kick her feet in the air.

"Thanks, brother, I appreciate it," Miles said, and left. Bass plopped down in the seat that Miles had vacated next to Charlie. Though they sat not touching, Charlie was acutely aware of his presence beside her for the rest of the game.

Once it was over, with the Bears winning, 41-20, Rick immediately hopped up and said he had work the next morning, thanked Bass for hosting, and headed out. Jeremy seemed inclined to linger, channel surfing to a fishing show, then to America's Next Top Model. Charlie thought she would die of frustration, when finally Duncan intervened.

"Jeremy, Bass doesn't want to watch TV with you all night," she said, pulling on his arm. "Come on, walk me to my car." Throwing a small smile at Charlie, she guided Jeremy to the door. Bass walked them out.

Duncan pushed Jeremy into the hall, then leaned in to Bass. Charlie heard her say, "I like this one, Bass. A lot. Don't fuck it up like you always seem to. We don't want another Flora situation."

Bass rolled his eyes and started to close the door with Duncan still standing halfway in the apartment. She squeaked indignantly and hustled into the hallway. Bass closed the door behind her, locking it as loudly as possible.

And suddenly, they were alone. Charlie felt excitement and nerves climbing up in her throat as Bass stalked toward her. "Finally," he growled, sweeping her up into his arms. The tension drained from her body as she relished the feel of him holding her. Their mouths met in a searching kiss.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Bass mumbled into her neck as he ran his hands over her body. "What is this that you're wearing?" He pushed his hands under the hem of her dress, running his hands along the bare skin of her thighs, then up over her ass, toying with the lace of her thong.

He walked her slowly backward, toward his bedroom, still kissing and rubbing her. They made it through the door, and Charlie took it all in—the gray stone wall, the black fluffy bedcover, the recessed lights along the headboard providing mood lighting. "Wow," she said, slightly taken aback.

Bass held her tight to his body then fell back on the bed, pulling her down on top of him. "Charlie," he said. "I have to tell you something."

"What?" she asked, looking at him worriedly.

"Tonight," he said, "I need to taste you." She breathed in heavily at this, and he went on, "Since the minute you walked in wearing that sexy little dress, all I've been able to think about is you sitting on my face. Still wearing it. I was half fucking tempted to just pull you onto me while everyone was still here. But now they're gone." He kissed her deeply. "So, does that work for you?"

"I guess I should start by getting rid of this," Charlie responded, rolling to her side and working her thong down her hips, off her legs. She left it hanging on one toe, then dramatically kicked it off, secretly proud of how smooth she made it look. Laying against Bass, she confessed, "I don't really know how to…"

Bass scooted down about a foot, so his head was resting just below his pillows, and he tossed them out of the way. "Just come up here," he urged. Charlie slowly moved toward him on her hands and knees. When her hips were about where she guessed was right, she lifted a leg so she was straddling Bass' face.

He immediately buried his tongue in her slit, and knew she had found the right place. Oh God, it was so right. She bucked down into him, unable to help herself, as he worked his tongue, hard and fast, in her cunt. Any insecurity she'd felt slipped away as she gripped Bass' headboard in pure ecstasy. His grunts and groans of appreciation increased her own arousal, and she knew she would come quickly. After the initial flurry of passion, Bass suckled her clit more gently, then explored her tender folds with his tongue, reaching one hand up to push his fingers inside her, giving her the feeling of fullness only he could provide.

Charlie was so wet, she knew her juices were all over Bass' face, and that thought turned her on even more. Bass tongued her clit relentlessly, holding her against him as her muscles tensed. She shattered against him, crying out loudly, enjoying the reckless abandon of not having to stay quiet, of finally letting him hear her come.

Apparently, he liked what he heard, as he threw her off him and quickly pulled off his clothes. Charlie went to remove her dress, and he stopped her. "No. Leave it on." Then, "Turn around." Charlie turned and, once more, grabbed the headboard.

Bass kneeled behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into him. He kissed along her neck, grasping her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress and lacy bra. He teased her nipples to hardness, and she pressed back into him, needing him inside her. "Bass," she begged, and that was all it took.

Hitching her dress up out of the way, Bass rubbed the head of his cock along her slit, tantalizing her still-raw nerves. Then, with a groan, he plunged inside her, slamming up into her swiftly, pushing her into the headboard. Charlie pushed back against him as he moved his cock in and out of her. She arched her back and shrieked with pleasure at the angle, his depth. Bass crossed his arms around her and held her nearly motionless as he pumped up into her. Then he planted his hands next to hers and grabbed the headboard for leverage, touching her only where they were joined. Charlie felt him speed up, then he grabbed her again as he cried out loudly, coming hard inside her. They both rode out his orgasm, kneeling on the bed, shaking. Then Bass pulled Charlie down beside him, spooning her. It was late, and Charlie was suddenly very tired. It took no time at all for her to drift off to sleep.

They were awakened a few hours later by the sound of the phone ringing. Bass sat up, disoriented, and stumbled into the next room to pick it up. Charlie could hear the frantic yelling, tinny-sounding through the phone line, and realized it had to be Miles. "Miles, calm down, she's fine, she's here." A pause, then, "She fell asleep on the couch right after the game, Jesus. I didn't want to wake her up, I figured she'd be fine here." Another pause, then Bass' voice broke as he said, "I was a perfect gentleman the entire time." Miles said something else, and Bass replied, "Well, yeah, we're both up now since you decided to call at three in the morning. I'll ask if she wants me to drive her back. … I can't force her to get in the car, Miles. … Okay, we'll be there in a half hour or so. See ya."

Charlie was already getting up, searching for her panties in Bass' sheets. Bass smiled at her wryly. "So… that was Miles," he said unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I kind of figured," she said. "Guess we better go."

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	5. Chapter 5

The next day around noon, Charlie was watching Sportscenter in her pajamas, since her only class that day wasn't until three. Miles was in the shower. He and Charlie still hadn't spoken about her late arrival the night before. She had finally walked into the apartment around 3:45 a.m. Miles had been up, still fully dressed, watching TV in the dark when she walked in. He hadn't turned around or looked at her, so she just said, "Goodnight, Miles," and slunk into her room.

The phone rang, and Charlie grabbed it. "Hey," she said, having a feeling about who it was.

"Miles there?" It was Bass, of course. She shivered with excitement at his voice, and at the memory of the night before. She never _had_ taken her dress off…

"He's in the shower," she said. "'Bout to leave for the bar, I think."

"Okay, well not to be all cloak and dagger but I should probably make this quick. I want to take you out this week. What night works?"

Charlie grinned hugely. "Um, I have a late seminar Wednesday, but Thursday or Friday is fine." Charlie ached to see Bass sooner, preferably within the hour, but she was a strong believer in the school that said you shouldn't be available for a date on a day's notice.

"I'll make Thursday work," Bass said quickly. "Just have to move… some things."

"A fight?" Charlie had to ask. Miles had said two weeks ago that he rarely saw Bass on Thursdays.

Ignoring her question, Bass said, "Obviously I can't pick you up there, like I'd like to. Can I meet you at school?"

Charlie described how to get to the building where she usually did her research in the evenings, and they agreed he would pick her up there at six. Miles shouldn't be an issue because he would be at the bar until late and not looking for her. They would have the night all to themselves.

"Looking forward to it," Bass said. "And go ahead and tell Miles I said to call me. I want to apologize again for keeping you last night."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, seems like you're full of regrets."

"See you Thursday," was his only response, and the line clicked.

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On Thursday, Charlie dressed with extra care, wearing something that would work both for going out with Bass and for sitting in front of a computer for hours. She'd decided on slim-fitting black pants, a burgundy sweater with a deep V-neck and a necklace of a knotted leather cord with silver beads. Her hair framed her face in loose waves. All day, she was flushed and smiling with anticipation.

As six o'clock neared, Charlie made her way out of the building, walking with her professor, Marin Jacobs. Marin was a tall woman in her fifties, with long gray hair and bold red glasses. Charlie had connected with her through one of her history professors at Penn, and they had gotten along famously in her phone interview last spring. Over the last several weeks that they'd been working together, Charlie and Marin had developed a close relationship. Charlie enjoyed that the professor clearly respected her and had strong hopes for her future; Charlie felt supported and valued in a way she never had been by a woman she admired.

They entered the lobby of the building, and Charlie's heart stuttered. Bass was there, looking amazing in a leather jacket, white button down, and jeans. He was leaning casually against the wall of the hallway, scanning the campus newspaper he held in one hand. At their approach, he glanced up and set it down on a nearby table, striding toward Charlie with a restrained grin on his face.

"Hey," he said, pulling her into a brief one-armed hug, then turning to face Marin.

"Hey," Charlie replied. "Bass, this is Professor Marin Jacobs. She's the one I've been working with this semester. Marin, this is…"

"Bass Monroe," he said, leaning forward to extend his hand for a handshake. The professor nodded and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Bass. Charlie has mentioned you a few times."

Bass reacted smoothly, smiling, "Not nearly as often as she's mentioned you to me, I'm sure. It sounds like you guys are doing some fascinating work."

"You have an interest in history?" Marin asked.

"I do, but as I've told Charlie, I'm more of a Civil War guy. I understand you're an expert on the American Revolution?" Marin nodded modestly, and Bass continued, "I'd be interested in your thoughts on George III as a leader trying to hold a nation together, compared to Abraham Lincoln."

Marin's eyes lit up with inspiration, "That is so funny that you say that, most people are intent on comparing Washington and Lincoln, but I agree with you, I think George III versus Lincoln is the far more relevant comparison…" She cut herself off then, shaking her head. "But we don't have an hour to stand here and analyze it now. So you study history?"

"Just as a hobby," Bass clarified. "I would have loved to be a professor, but I joined the Marines right after college and just retired a couple years ago."

Marin looked impressed. "Oh, thank you for your service," she said reflexively. "My father was in the Navy for six years."

"Thank him for his," Bass replied. A few seconds of silence fell among them, and he added, "Well, if you're done with Charlie for the day, she and I should get going. You ready?" he addressed Charlie.

Charlie nodded. "See you tomorrow, Marin," she said, and they departed.

Once they were settled into the car, Bass asked Charlie, "So for dinner… adventurous or safe?"

Charlie laughed. "Ummm… cuisine-wise? Or like, eating while sitting on a runaway train? What are we talking about here?"

Bass just smiled and repeated, "Adventurous or safe?"

"Well, adventurous, of course," Charlie said and settled back into her seat, excited to find out where the evening would take them.

She began to question her choice as they drove into a neighborhood somewhat reminiscent of the one where Bass fought, but more residential, with tiny, rundown homes stacked close on top of one another. Bass stopped in front of one with warm orange light glowing through the windows and about a half dozen late-model cars parked nearby.

They walked up the front sidewalk, and Charlie saw a small wooden sign nailed to the door: "Tum Nak." Bass entered confidently.

Immediately, they were surrounded by warm air, the heavy scent of spicy food, and the subtle sound of diners conversing, dishes rattling, and drinks pouring. A hostess popped around the corner and gestured them over to an impossibly small table for two next to a fireplace with a few logs emitting a cheery glow. She disappeared, and Charlie looked around in appreciation.

"This is really cute," she commented. "You've been here before?"

Bass nodded, "A few times. It's nice when the weather gets cold."

"What's good?" she asked, looking around for a menu board.

"I have no idea," Bass answered, then explained, "They just bring out whatever they're cooking tonight. It's a fixed menu, probably eight or ten courses." Taking her hand across the table, he concluded, "You said adventurous."

Charlie smiled, "I did. Sounds perfect." For a few seconds, they just looked at each other, both smiling, until Bass squeezed her hand and released it.

"So, I'm glad I got to meet Marin," Bass said. "She seemed really easygoing. How did you end up working for her?"

Charlie launched into a description of how she had gotten connected with Marin; how at first she felt awkward being one-on-one with her but now saw her as a mentor and friend. As she spoke, Bass listened attentively, asking her questions where necessary, seeming to absorb every word.

Eventually, their food started coming out, and they commented on the soup, the vegetables, the meats, the sauces. Charlie loved Thai food, though she typically only had curry, so this was a new experience. Bass seemed pleased with her willingness to try everything, though she definitely wasn't about to eat a whole plate of, for example, tiny, slimy shrimp, just to impress him.

As their meal drew to an end, they were served coconut-rice pancakes and fresh cups of hot tea. Charlie was sated and felt absolutely relaxed yet happy. Their date at the football game had been great, but it was easy to attribute that to the excitement of the Bears winning, and they'd had the game itself to talk about the entire time. But this, her and Bass at a small table, discussing their interests, their pasts, their experiences in Chicago and Philadelphia, was even more enjoyable because it was just them, no buffer, no distractions.

Bass reached up and tweaked a strand of her hair, commenting, "You know, firelight does amazing things to your hair." He ran his thumb briefly along her jawline, and excitement pooled in her stomach. "Do you camp at all?" Charlie shook her head. "I'll have to take you sometime," Bass said. She made a face, and he laughed. "Trust me. When you're with someone who knows what he's doing, you'll love it."

Charlie blushed, thinking about other areas in which Bass knew what he was doing that she'd enjoyed very much. His thoughts evidently strayed to the same place, and he fixed her with a heated stare. The spell was broken by the arrival of their server asking if they needed anything else. Bass checked his watch and said they should go, taking out and handing over a folded set of bills.

Their night wasn't over. Bass drove them to a club that was closer to downtown, on a well-lit, busy street. The valet took the car, and Bass put his arm around Charlie and led her through the door. A tall, thin young man sat on a stool just on the other side. Bass produced two tickets from his pocket and handed them over. The man examined them and said, "Grab any of the booths by the stage," and waved them past.

Bass held aside the faded red curtain at the entrance to the inner room, and Charlie stepped through. She was excited to see a jazz band warming up on the stage. Near the band, at the end of the room, were about half a dozen booths for two. Bass led her to one, and she slid in, Bass joining her.

"This ok?" he asked, indicating the view of the band.

"Yeah, this will work," Charlie said, fighting for an air of casualness, then giving in and admitting, "This is awesome."

Bass put his arm around her and pulled her against him. "Glad you like." They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying finally touching each other, listening to the band run through different scales, rhythms, and melodies. They ordered drinks that appeared quickly, and finally the lights dimmed and the show began. Bass held Charlie close to him the whole time, a few times murmuring comments in her ear or dropping his head down to kiss her neck or her mouth.

The band was incredible. Charlie usually listened to loud, rough rock music—"angry at the world" type stuff—but the sultry, romantic tones of the jazz were beautiful to her, too. She was disappointed when the band finally announced that the next song would be their last, and she made sure to savor every second. As the final note faded away, she joined the room in applauding enthusiastically, and Bass pulled his arm from around her to do the same. The band was selling albums on the way out, and Bass bought one, handing it to Charlie to put on when they got in the car.

As they waited for the valet to bring Bass' car around, Charlie asked, "So what now? Over to your place?"

Bass' face flashed with annoyance. "Charlie," he said. "That's not the only reason I asked you out, you know."

"Bass," Charlie responded, imitating his tone. "Yes, I do know." She paused, then smiled teasingly, adding, "But that doesn't mean we should deprive ourselves."

Looking down at her, Bass' eyes took on a hazy look of desire. "Well, if you insist," he said, lowering his head to hers for a kiss. Charlie pressed into him, and after a few hot seconds, they broke apart, aware that they were still in public.

They arrived back at Bass' place after spending most of the ride running their hands over each other to the extent they could while Bass was driving—at one point, the tires had emitted loud sounds of protest as he veered too far onto the shoulder. Once the front door was closed behind them, Bass pushed Charlie against it, kissing her forcefully. He pushed her jacket off her shoulders and shrugged out of his own, tossing them aside. Bass ran his hands up under her sweater, causing her to yelp at the feeling of his cold hands, but she twined her arms around his neck, holding him close, letting him know not to stop. Charlie could feel his erection through the front of his jeans, pressing into the thin fabric of her pants. She rubbed against him, and he groaned.

Bass kept his hands on her back, pulling her into him as he kissed along her neck. Charlie dropped her hand to touch him through his jeans, and as she stroked him, he murmured, "Charlie… Charlie…" over and over, sucking on her skin, his hands grasping her hard. Finally, he backed away from her slightly and tugged on the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head, and he unceremoniously removed her bra as well. He palmed her breasts, teasing her nipples to hardness, and Charlie struggled to concentrate as she unbuttoned and removed his shirt, leaving him in only his undershirt and jeans. Then Charlie decided she'd enjoyed having the upper hand.

As she had in the alley a couple weeks prior, Charlie dropped to her knees in front of Bass, still in his front hallway. She made quick work of his belt and fly, pulling out his hard cock so it was standing out proudly in front of her face. Bass watched her with his mouth half-open, breathing hard. Determined, she wrapped her hand around his base, jerking softly for a few beats, drawing a small moan from Bass. Then she wet her lips and took just his head into her mouth, working her heat over the smooth skin of his cock, sucking his precum onto her tongue, savoring the salty taste.

"Fuck," Charlie heard Bass whisper above her. She kept going, pushing his penis further back into her mouth, dragging the sensitive head along her soft palate, suppressing her gag reflex, feeling him grow rock-hard in response. Finally, she pulled him out to take a breath, and he put his hands on her shoulders to still her. Falling to his knees in front of her, Bass rolled Charlie onto her back, quickly unfastening her pants and indicating she should take them off. Charlie shoved her pants and underwear off her hips, and Bass did the same. Then he was on top of her.

Charlie spread her legs beneath Bass, wrapping her arms around him. He captured her lips in a heated kiss, plunging his tongue inside, forcing her jaw open as he pressed her into the floor. Releasing her mouth, breathing raggedly, he held his cock in his hand, rubbing it against her wetness, causing her to sigh and move beneath him, urging him on. Finally, he pushed his way inside her smoothly, fucking her hard, holding one hand behind her neck to steady her beneath him.

Bass bit down on the side of Charlie's neck as he moved inside her, making her cry out and flex against him, pushing him deeper inside. Her hips dug somewhat painfully into the floor beneath her, but she didn't care; the pleasure of him finally filling her was too great. Bass' movements grew harder, almost brutal as he pounded her into the hardwood. With a groaned, "Fuck, _Charlie_," he pumped into her a few final times, coming hard inside her.

Charlie lay beneath him, panting, as he relaxed on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows and legs, then rolling over to his side, pulling her on top of him. Charlie kissed the warm skin of his neck wetly, darting her tongue out to taste him. Bass ran his hands over her body, finally resting one hand on her ass, moving the other on her thigh, lightly skating his fingers between her legs.

"Sorry I didn't wait for you," he said. "Should I…" he shifted to give himself a better angle to touch her.

Charlie shook her head, pushing his arm down, "It's okay. I still enjoyed it, trust me." She pushed her pelvis into him, curling closer, suddenly feeling very chilled and exposed in the cool air of the apartment. "But maybe we could move to the bed."

Bass sat up, then stood, pulling her to her feet. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, then led her back into his bedroom, where they got under the covers. Tracing his fingers through Charlie's hair, his face just inches from hers, Bass said in a low voice, "You know I have to take you home at some point."

Still shivering slightly, Charlie replied, "God, I wish I could just stay here."

"Me too," Bass said, shifting toward her, pulling her into his chest. Charlie settled in contentedly, trying to ignore the fact that she'd have to get up soon and spend the rest of the night alone in her own bed.

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Charlie and Bass continued seeing each other as often as possible, on evenings when Miles was working and Charlie wouldn't have to come up with a lie to explain why she wasn't at home. Bass planned their first few dates, taking her to more of his favorite restaurants in the city, including the "safe" option from their first date, which turned out to be a sedate steak house on a well-lit boulevard. They went to the movies, where Charlie revealed to Bass with a laugh that she usually snuck in sodas and candy rather that pay exorbitant concession stand prices. They even caught the evening show at the Adler planetarium, Bass insisting that she couldn't leave Chicago without having been at least once.

After a while, Charlie started suggesting dates, too. She brought Bass to a student-favorite Italian bistro near U Chicago for an extremely cheap pasta dinner, and later she took him to a free student performance of Henry V. Bass grumbled about being the oldest person there by about twenty years, but she could tell he enjoyed it because it made her happy to have him in her world.

Another night, when Bass said he had somewhere he had to be by ten, they met for a short date at a coffee shop where Charlie spent a lot of her time studying. The place was full of shabby upholstered chairs, funky glass lamps, and had battered old board games for customers to play. Bass surprised Charlie by challenging her to a game of Scrabble, and he proclaimed he'd been duped when she soundly beat him, ensuring victory by playing "za" on a triple letter score with her second-to-last move. She'd been disappointed when he had to leave shortly thereafter, especially because she knew he was going to fight and wouldn't admit it to her.

Throughout the weeks they were dating, Charlie knew that Bass had continued fighting—and why wouldn't he, she reasoned with herself. Every time she asked about it, he ignored her or changed the subject, so she stopped bringing it up. Charlie didn't really know what she would say even if he would talk about it. Of course, she wanted Bass to stay safe and healthy. But he seemed to handle himself fine. And she had to admit that the thought of him in the ring was a crazy turn on. Every time he showed up to meet her with a new cut or scrape visible, she wanted to devour him right then and there. One evening he picked her up with a nasty bruise on his cheekbone darkening his features; she'd sucked him off in the car on their way to the restaurant.

A few days before Thanksgiving, about three weeks after their date at the Thai place, Charlie and Bass spent a rare full day together. Charlie's Monday class had been cancelled, and Bass jumped at the opportunity to have her over while Miles was at work. They'd cooked lunch, fumbling through the various steps of putting together pecan-crusted tilapia and zucchini fries, enjoying working as a team. Then they'd spent a few hours watching a movie on TV. They lay together on the couch as the credits played, Charlie's head resting on Bass' chest. He sighed contentedly and said, "I love having you here."

Charlie's heart lifted, and she replied, "I love being here." They both sat silently, the "L-word" hanging in the air between them. Bass squeezed his arms harder around her, and she traced her fingers along his forearm. Suddenly, unable to stop herself, Charlie said, "We have to tell him."

Miles. The elephant in the room whenever they were together. They couldn't entirely avoid mentioning him, of course. His schedule, his ignorance, his inevitable disapproval, dictated their every move. When they saw each other, where they met, the fact that they could never be at "her place." But Charlie knew that things were getting serious between her and Bass, that this wasn't some casual fling that was better left hidden. She was falling for Bass, and she suspected he felt the same. It was time to take things out of the shadows.

Behind her, she felt Bass sigh heavily. "I know. I was going to say the same thing. Fuck." He sounded frustrated. "How do we do it?"

Charlie rolled around to face Bass, balancing on the edge of the couch. "I was thinking maybe at Thanksgiving." Bass and Miles usually spent Thanksgiving at a bar watching football and getting wasted. This year, Charlie had decreed that plan unacceptable and ordered a Whole Foods holiday dinner to be delivered to Miles' apartment so that they could have some semblance of a civilized meal.

Bass nodded, "Okay. That sounds good. We'll tell him at Thanksgiving. After he's had several drinks. More than several." Charlie noticed he looked slightly queasy.

"Do you really think it will be that bad?" she asked.

"I don't know," Bass replied. "But yeah, I have a feeling he's going to be furious. I just have to figure out how to make him see that I'm not just using you for sex."

"Oh, you're not?" Charlie said teasingly, with a huge smile, hitching her leg up between Bass', rubbing her body into his.

He smiled too and said, "Shockingly, no." He dropped his forehead to hers and said, "I really care about you, Charlie." With that, he kissed her hard. And, even though it wasn't just about the sex, Charlie thought, it was certainly a nice bonus.

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The Thanksgiving meal took place at the kitchen table rather than at the coffee table, Charlie having compromised that it could be moved so they all had a view of the TV playing the football game. Bass had brought over a very expensive bottle of bourbon, and he kept Miles' tumbler faithfully filled. The Bears played the Lions in their traditional Thanksgiving Day game, and the three of them were elated when they won handily.

They were still sitting around the table, picking at the remnants of their food and sipping drinks, when Bass shot Charlie a questioning look. Charlie nodded at him, swallowing nervously. Bass had said he wanted to be the one to do most of the talking, though he agreed that Charlie should be there, too.

"So," Bass said to Miles. "I haven't had a chance to tell you, I've been seeing someone for a little while now."

Miles raised his eyebrows and grinned tipsily, "Hey, that's great!" He reached out and shoved Bass' shoulder. "A little while as in, for more than a night?"

Bass rolled his eyes. "Yeah, for more than a night. I really care about her, Miles."

"Uh, wow. Well, congratulations, man, good." Miles took another sip of bourbon, then asked, "How did you meet her?"

This was the delicate moment. "Actually…" Bass hesitated. Charlie was sure that he had practiced this a dozen times, but she could see that he was struggling to know what to say. "Miles, it's Charlie."

Miles froze, looking confusedly between Bass and Charlie, still smiling, waiting for the punch line. At both of their grim expressions, his face dropped. Addressing Bass, he asked, "What? What are you talking about?"

"Charlie and I have been seeing each other," Bass said, not touching or looking at her, keeping his attention on Miles. "We decided to tell you because it's getting pretty serious."

Miles turned to Charlie, shocked, and she nodded in confirmation. She longed to grab Bass' hand, to gain the steadiness his touch would provide, but she knew it would be the wrong move, would only risk provoking Miles further.

"What the fuck?" Miles said, now glaring, furious. "What the fuck are you telling me, Bass? You and Charlie have been SEEING each other?" His hands were braced on the edge of the table, as if he were holding himself in place.

"Yes," Bass said simply, waiting out Miles' reaction.

"So, what you're really saying is that you've been fucking," Miles spat, disgusted. "Is that right? You're telling me you fucked my niece?"

"Miles!" Charlie exclaimed, horrified. At this, Bass did reach out for her hand, holding it bracingly.

"NO, Charlie," Miles yelled, not looking at her. Of Bass, he demanded, "Is that right?"

Bass met his gaze steadily, "It's not like that. I told you, I care about her. I respect her."

Miles laughed, a harsh bark of a laugh, "Oh you respect her? Really? Like you respected Flora? And Jessica? And Taylor? And Duncan for about the tenth time, for god's sake? And that's just within the last few months, you fucking piece of shit," he said, growing angrier by the second.

Bass squeezed Charlie's hand, and she squeezed back reassuringly. She knew that he had a lot of women in his past, and she didn't care. "Miles, what can I say?" Bass asked. "We wanted you to know. We don't want to hide this anymore."

"'This?'" Miles said disbelievingly. "There is no 'this.' This thing where you fuck my niece behind my back? That's over." Bass opened his mouth to protest, and Miles slammed his palm on the table violently, causing the dishes to rattle. "OVER, Bass," he shouted.

"I'm sorry, brother, but I can't accept that," Bass said quietly, studiously composed in the face of Miles' rage.

"Get the FUCK out of here," Miles said, leaping to his feet, shaking with rage. "Bass, get the fuck away from me before I do something I'll regret."

Bass rose to his feet, too, and Charlie followed suit. "Miles," Bass tried once more, and in response, Miles snatched one of the knives up off the table.

"GET OUT!" Miles screamed, a wild gleam in his eyes. Bass held his hands up, palms out, and backed away, pulling his jacket off the couch as he went. When he was out the door, Miles turned to Charlie. He dropped the knife to the table with a clatter.

"You're not to see him. You're not to speak to him. You're not to think about him," Miles commanded darkly. "Jesus Christ, Charlie, how could you? How could you debase yourself with…" He broke off, shaking his head slowly.

"With Bass?" Charlie said sarcastically. "Your best friend? Your 'brother'?"

Miles shook his head. "No. NO!" he insisted. "While you live under my roof, you stay away from him. If you keep seeing him, you'll have no place here. Do you understand me? I will kick your ass out."

Her eyes filling with tears, Charlie didn't even stop to grab her coat before tearing out of the apartment, determined to catch up with Bass. She did, stopping him in the lobby of the building, throwing herself into his arms.

"Shhhh," Bass comforted her, swaying slightly. "Charlie, it's going to be okay. He'll come around."

Charlie shook her head. With a sob, she said, "He told me if we keep seeing each other, he's going to kick me out. I have two and a half weeks of school left!"

"Shit," was Bass' only response.

Sudden inspiration struck Charlie. "Maybe I could stay with you!" she said frantically. "Just 'til I go back to Philly." She pulled away slightly and looked up at Bass. Her heart sank when she saw the cornered look on his face.

"I don't know," he said, frowning. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Fine," Charlie said, stepping back from him, feeling the sting of his rejection. "Just forget it."

Bass reached for her, placating, "Charlie, come on. You're talking about moving in with me. We'll figure something else out."

Charlie's face was streaked with tears, and she shook her head hopelessly. "Forget it. Maybe Miles is right. I'm leaving soon anyway. Maybe we should just end this now."

Bass didn't respond, just looking defeated. Sick with humiliation, Charlie turned and fled back toward the elevator, feeling like her heart was breaking into a million pieces.

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	6. Chapter 6

Charlie's weekend was awful. She and Miles barely spoke to each other, certainly not about Bass, but Miles watched her like a hawk. She didn't bother trying to go anywhere, not wanting to deal with the inevitable interrogation. They watched TV together largely in silence. Miles didn't make her go to the bar with him at all, which was surprising, but Charlie figured he would be able to sense if she tried to sneak around, now that he was paying strict attention. So even when he was at work, she stayed at the apartment, soaking in misery.

On Monday, she was glad for the distraction of class in the morning and work for Professor Jacobs in the afternoon. The professor herself was out of town, and Charlie was relieved not to have to see her. She wasn't sure that she'd be able to hold it together if Marin asked her what was wrong.

Finally, when the evening outside had almost turned to night, Charlie shut down her computer with a sigh. Time to head back to Miles' place. Back to awkward silence and pointed throat clearing and glares.

When Charlie got to the lobby, she stopped dead in her tracks, her heart racing. Bass was there, just as he had been many times, picking her up on evenings like this. Though he looked much more casual than he usually did for their dates, in old jeans and a faded red long-sleeved t-shirt. He hadn't spotted her yet, was just sitting in an armchair, staring thoughtfully into space, one hand over his mouth. Charlie paused and gathered herself for a few seconds before approaching him.

As she drew closer, she saw that Bass looked terrible. He was scruffier than usual, and his eyes were reddened. With her own messy ponytail and makeup-less face, they made quite a pair. She was nearly on top of him before he saw her and sprang to his feet.

"You look like hell," Charlie opened with false bravado, smirking and hitching her bag up higher on her shoulder.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Bass' face, and he replied, "Can we talk somewhere? Preferably with less fluorescent lighting?"

Charlie desperately wanted to talk to Bass, and she couldn't think of any reason not to. "Yeah. Is outside ok?"

Bass pulled his coat off the arm of the chair and gestured that she should lead the way. Charlie zipped her parka up and headed outside, onto one of the footpaths across campus. She had a destination in mind, if they made it that far. If Bass was here for the reason he hoped she was.

They walked in silence for a while, but Charlie was determined to let Bass speak first. Finally, he did. "I'm sorry about Thanksgiving." She was silent, sensing there was more. He paused and continued, "I should have been strong for you, but I wasn't. I wasn't prepared for how badly he took it."

Charlie nodded, her heart light with relief. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have asked you if I could stay with you. You were right, it was too much. I just… when Miles… I panicked."

They both fell silent, and Charlie felt hopeful for the first time in days, even though she still wasn't sure what they were going to do.

"I don't want you to have the wrong idea," Bass said suddenly. "About… us living together."

"What do you mean?" she asked carefully.

"I hope we get to that point eventually. But I don't want to rush into it. I don't want to let myself get pushed too fast and end up fucking things up." Charlie reached out and tucked her arm in his. He pulled her close to him and went on.

"That probably sounds like total commitment-phobic bullshit," he said, sounding frustrated.

Charlie nudged him, "Can you stop arguing with yourself, please? I said I agree with you that it's too soon to live together." Secretly, she was almost giddy at the revelation that, like her, Bass hoped they would someday. "So I guess I'm staying at Miles'."

"Yeah, that probably makes the most sense." Bass sounded extremely displeased, which was just how she was feeling.

"I have another couple weeks of finals left, anyway," she continued. "I'm going to be really busy writing papers and studying. Maybe we should just wait to see each other til after I'm done."

Bass nodded, seemingly deep in thought. "But then you go back to Philly," he said, stating the obvious.

Charlie's heart sank. Their time together was almost over, regardless of what happened in the next couple weeks. She'd been avoiding thinking about it, but he was right. "Yeah."

Suddenly, they reached the destination Charlie had had in mind: a huge Christmas tree set up in a courtyard between several campus buildings. The massive tree glowed with multicolored lights reflecting off huge round ornaments. In the near-darkness of the evening, the atmosphere it created was magical. In silent agreement, she and Bass drew nearer to the tree, until they were standing just a few feet away from it. They were the only people in sight.

Bass pulled Charlie around to face him, and she looked up at the gorgeous face she'd come to know so well, lit soft pink by the Christmas lights. Unable to resist, she ran her hand over the plane of his jaw, then dropped it to her side. Bass looked inexplicably nervous as he stared at her.

"What would you think about me taking you back to school? Driving you, I mean." Bass asked her. "I promise it would be more comfortable than the train," he joked, but it was obvious he was unsure about his question, her answer.

Charlie's face broke into an elated grin. "Really? That would be amazing. Absolutely." A mental image flashed in her mind of her and Bass side by side in his vehicle, facing the road ahead together.

Bass pulled her into his arms, and she nestled her head against him. "There's something else," he said. "I was thinking… I might stay awhile. In Philly."

Rising up on her tiptoes briefly in excitement, Charlie pulled back to look at Bass in disbelief. "For how long?" she asked, not wanting to get her hopes up that this could mean they had a future together beyond the next few weeks.

He shrugged slightly and answered, "For as long as you want me there." His eyes looked into hers searchingly.

In response, Charlie jumped into his arms kissed him hard. She was surprised to find tears burning in her eyes. Bass was going to come to Philly and stay. For her.

Bass returned her kiss, plunging his tongue against hers, opening her mouth wide into his. Despite the cold air, Charlie felt her body heating beneath his touch, his hands pressing her body to his, running up under her coat. They broke apart, and Bass grinned down at her, laughing slightly. "So that works for you?"

Charlie laughed back. "Yeah, that works." She snuggled into his embrace, the lights of the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner of her vision, and she thought that the moment could not be more perfect. She decided to say it out loud. "I'm really happy."

She shivered as Bass' hand traced circles in the small of her back, and she felt herself getting turned on. It had been awhile since she and Bass had gone so long without each other, and her body was responding to his nearness now.

Bass dropped his head to her neck and nuzzled under her ear, then planted soft kisses along her throat. Charlie's breath caught and she moaned quietly into his ear. In response, he caught her up closer and darted his tongue out to taste her skin. "How am I going to go two weeks without you?" he asked, running his hands down to cup her ass.

"I don't know," Charlie groaned, feeling Bass growing hard against her. Giving in to temptation, she darted her hand down to rub lightly over his erection, and he pressed into her hand. She rubbed him more firmly, and he gave a rumbling moan deep in his chest.

The sound of loud talking and laughter echoed across the courtyard as a group of students turned the corner toward them. Bass and Charlie pulled slightly away from each other reluctantly as the group passed by.

"Come on," Bass said, his voice laden with regret. "I'll drive you back to Miles'."

They made their way back to his car, and as they navigated through the dark streets, they made plans for their trip to Philadelphia and for Bass' time there. Charlie suggested a few neighborhoods near her school where he might look to stay, places that would make it easy for them to see each other. How long he would stay wasn't a question either of them could answer yet. For the moment, he just needed a place for a few weeks, to see how things continued to unfold between them.

When they were a few blocks from Miles' place, Charlie suggested that Bass go ahead and stop, that she would walk the rest of the way to avoid the risk that Miles would see them together. Bass agreed, pulling over and throwing on his hazards. He and Charlie shared a long, deep kiss in his front seat. As she leaned away, she sighed.

"It's just two weeks," Bass assured her. "You'll be so busy, you won't even miss me."

Charlie smirked. "Doubtful." She kissed him again and slid out into the cold night.

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A week and a half later, the Thursday before she and Bass were to leave for Philadelphia, Charlie and her friends were celebrating. The group had taken their philosophy exam that evening, and they'd headed to a bar immediately afterward. They quickly downed a round of shots, high on the adrenaline of the semester almost being over. Charlie just had one more paper to complete and turn in on Monday, and she'd be free.

As she downed a few more drinks, Charlie grew warm and happy. She and her friends started a rousing game of Never Have I Ever, and the racy questions inevitably led her thoughts to Bass.

Charlie had more fun using the game as a confessional rather than actually trying to get her friends to drink. When it got to her turn, Charlie couldn't resist saying, "Never have I ever… had sex with someone more than twice my age." Then she smiled smugly and raised her drink to her lips, taking a long swing. She was the only one.

A guy she didn't know very well, Jason, was standing next to her and nudged her teasingly. He'd been trying to flirt with her all night, offering to buy her drinks and always working his way over to her side in the group. "Getting it on with grandpa!" he exclaimed.

Charlie smiled enigmatically. "Some women prefer a real man rather than a mere boy," she said.

Jason clutched his hand over his heart, pretending at deep hurt. "I'm crushed! How dare you? Would a boy be able to do this?" Without warning, he grabbed Charlie in his arms. She screamed as he dipped her deeply, nearly tipping her off her feet.

Charlie laughed and punched his arm as he pulled her back up and she regained her balance. "Ass." Jason merely smiled at her.

As it grew later, Charlie couldn't get her mind off of Bass. They had agreed not to see each other until Monday, but she missed him terribly. Yes, she still had one more paper to write, but for tonight, she just wanted to have some fun. With him. Preferably naked.

She asked her friend Janaya if she could borrow her phone, and Janaya tipsily handed it over without asking why. Charlie called Bass' phone, but it went to voice mail. She tried his home: no answer. Frustrated and impatient, Charlie gave the phone back, contemplating her next move. She was overwhelmed by her desire to see Bass, and she had to make it happen.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. It was Thursday night. Bass was undoubtedly fighting. A thrill of excitement shot through her at what she was about to do.

Charlie said goodbye to her friends, who were at this point too drunk to care much about what she was doing. Even Jason had moved on, draping his arm around Janaya and another girl, Whitney, regaling them with a tale of how he'd been followed by the police just for taking a series of wrong turns in front of an embassy. Charlie was profoundly relieved and excited as she stole out into the cold night.

She grabbed a cab outside and slid in. "Um, we're going to a bar, but I don't know the name. I'll have to direct you," she told the driver. As she positioned herself in the middle of the back seat, she saw the time: nearly 1 a.m. Working from her memory of that night months ago with Miles, she directed the cab on the long ride from the campus bars to the sketchy neighborhood where she knew she would find Bass.

Charlie felt a thrill of triumph when they turned onto the familiar street and she saw Bass' car, saw the lantern hanging over the otherwise nondescript door. She paid the cab driver and got out, standing on the street, taking a few deep breaths to collect herself. Charlie was dressed to kill, in knee-high black heeled boots and skintight dark jeans, with a dark green low cut tank top that zipped up the back under her long black wool coat. She felt powerful and sexy, ready to see Bass in his element, this time as his woman rather than as a near stranger.

Charlie entered the bar and worked her way toward the back room. Though it was warm inside, she kept her coat on, remembering how the men had reacted to her last time. She heard a tinny voice announcing something over the PA, but the din of the crowd drowned it out.

When she reached the painted black door, Charlie addressed the bouncer sitting there, a different man from the one she'd seen with Miles. "I'm here to see Bass Monroe," she said, jutting her chin forward in what she hoped was a confident manner.

This man was chattier than the previous bouncer. "Oh you are?" he said mockingly. "Well what's the password, shortcake?"

Charlie was taken aback. Password? Miles hadn't had to give any password. Narrowing her eyes, Charlie stared directly into the bouncer's eyes and said flatly, "Didn't think I needed a password as long as I had cash." She shrugged out of her coat, looping it over her arm, exposing her sexy outfit. "Was I wrong?"

The bouncer burst into appreciative laughter. Shaking his head, he said through guffaws, "I'm just fucking with you. Go on, go on." He gestured her toward the door, not even taking her money. Before he could change his mind, Charlie hustled forward.

The back bar was quieter, though still packed with people. No one harassed her upon her entrance this time, which was a relief. Several men gawked in her direction, but gawking she could handle. Charlie also noticed that she wasn't the only woman present this time. There were several women in skimpy outfits standing around, improbably more beautiful than the men they appeared to be with. And the bartender was a woman. Flora.

Charlie didn't see Bass. Figuring he would show up eventually, she made her way up to the corner of the bar, squeezing through the crowd until she was pressed up to the shiny wood. She tossed her coat in the corner on top of several that were already lying there. It was that, or carry it around with her all night, which she wasn't in the mood to do.

Flora was pulling beers, shot a glance in Charlie's direction, "What can I get you?"

"Vodka soda," Charlie called. Flora nodded, served the drink, and took Charlie's money. Charlie positioned herself facing out into the room, keeping watch for Bass. A few minutes later, Flora came over to where she stood and started preparing a tray of shots.

"You were here before," Flora stated. "With Bass' friend Miles."

Charlie looked at her, surprised. "Yeah, I was. How do you remember that?"

Flora shrugged. "Not too many chicks come in here who aren't working girls." She nodded around at the other women Charlie had seen as she came in. "Plus that was the night Bass almost died." Charlie could hear the pain and worry in her voice, even these months later.

"Are you and Bass close?" Charlie asked impulsively, liquor loosening her inhibitions.

At this, Flora looked up, irritated. "Are _you_?" she asked pointedly. Not waiting for an answer, she picked up the tray of shots and walked away.

Charlie was somewhat embarrassed and took a swig of her drink. She felt light-headed and bold and wanted someone to talk to other than the unfriendly Flora. Pushing away from the bar, she made her way unsteadily across the room, making flirtatious eye contact with a few men as she did, but not pausing.

Above her head, the PA speakers buzzed, and a voice said, "In the ring now, Denzer and Monroe. Denzer and Monroe." Charlie was just a few steps away from the ring where she'd seen Bass fight before. She stopped short, looking around frantically for Bass, unsure if she wanted him to see her or not.

Finally, she spotted him, sauntering into the ring from the opposite side. Unlike the last time she'd seen him fight, he looked strong, serious, and deadly. He was again shirtless, wearing light gray slacks and barefoot. And, Charlie noticed, he was clean. He hadn't fought yet that night. His eyes were focused with fierce intensity on his opponent, a slightly shorter man with spiky yellow hair.

The toady referee scurried into the ring and babbled something Charlie couldn't make out. Then he stepped back and the two men in the ring started circling each other. Denzer lunged toward Bass, and unlike last time, this time Bass didn't take a hit. He shot his arm up to block his opponent, and with his other fist landed a harsh blow to his jaw, then his ear. Bass leapt back a few feet, smoothly, and Denzer pursued, throwing his whole body at Bass. They grappled briefly, and Bass threw him off of him, then landed a powerful kick to his torso.

Denzer staggered backward, and this time Bass came toward him, kicking him again in the ribcage. Crying out in pain, Denzer bent to protect himself, and Bass hit him with an unrestrained uppercut. Charlie caught Bass smiling grimly as he pummeled Denzer, blood spurting from the man's mouth all over Bass' face and chest. Denzer turned away to protect his face, and Bass kicked him solidly in the side, sending Denzer flying down to his knees.

Bass waited as the other man staggered up from the floor, breathing heavily, watching him, giving him a chance to right himself. With a savage scream, Denzer suddenly turned and flung himself at Bass, landing two hard punches to his face before Bass could react. Then he did, bellowing with fury, grabbing Denzer's arm and yanking it back violently, holding him sideways as he hit Denzer with his free hand.

Denzer slowly grew limp under Bass' blows, and when Bass released his arm and shoved him away, he crumpled to the ground. After several seconds, he'd still made no effort to get up, and the referee cautiously stepped toward Bass and raised his hand in victory. The crowd around Charlie burst into appreciative applause, seemingly unconcerned with the badly beaten Denzer, still huddled on the ground.

A couple of the "working girls" as Flora had called him, approached Bass, their eyes wide and eager. He literally shrugged them off, stepping away to grab a towel and bottle of beer from someone nearby. As he held the bottle to his lips and drank greedily, Charlie moved toward him and stepped into his line of sight.

When their eyes met, Bass lowered the bottle slowly, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. After a beat, he sprang into action, putting the bottle on the ground, stepping toward Charlie and closing the distance between them. He grabbed her arm roughly, almost painfully.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, propelling her across the room. Charlie was too startled to respond, trailing along with him, her heart in her throat. This was not the reaction she had expected.

Bass pulled her down a back hallway, around a corner, and up a narrow, dark set of stairs. At the top of the stairs was another hallway, lined with doors. Looking side to side quickly, he dragged her into one of them. Bass kicked the door shut behind them and faced her, looking furious. Charlie's mouth went dry.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Bass asked her again, clearly struggling to keep control of his temper, his body coiled with tension.

For a few seconds, Charlie was silent as she got her bearings. The liquor in her system had rendered her slower than usual. She processed that they were in a tiny, dimly lit room with just enough room for a couch and a small footlocker. The noises of the bar downstairs were still audible through the floor. Looking back up at Bass, a coil of excitement shot through her. He looked insanely sexy, glaring at her, his blue eyes dark, his body still covered in sweat and blood from the fight, one of his eyes slightly blackened from the hits he'd taken. Last time she'd seen him like this, she'd had to look but not touch. Not this time.

Charlie stepped toward him in what she hoped was an alluring manner. "I wanted to see you," she said. She reached her hands up and rested them on Bass' chest. As if her touch had burned him, he grabbed her wrists and shoved her arms back down.

"Don't. Touch me," he commanded. Charlie frowned, frustrated. Could Bass really be this angry with her?

"Seriously?" she asked. "You're pissed off that I'm here?"

Bass' mouth fell open as he exhaled with exasperation. "I thought I made it clear that I don't want to share this part of my life with you." His hands were clenched at his sides as he stared her down.

Looking into his eyes, Charlie suddenly realized. He wasn't pissed. He was ashamed. Worried. About what she would think, how she would react to seeing him here, to this dirty, seedy, bloody world, so different from her own.

Careful not to touch him again, Charlie stepped incrementally closer to Bass. "What if I want you to share it? What if I think it's sexy?"

At that, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It's not sexy. It's fucked up. _I'm _fucked up." His words were laced with bitterness, but he seemed to be prodding her, testing her.

"You're not fucked up," Charlie said in a low voice, trying to show him how sincere she was, aching to hold him.

"Oh no?" he spat. "How's this for fucked up: You want to know why I fight? You've asked me enough times. I fight because I lost my family. They died. And every time I step into that fucking ring, I think, maybe this time, I'll die too. And somehow that makes it better." His voice cracked on the last sentence, and he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

Charlie waited, and Bass opened his eyes, adding, "You don't need to be around all this."

She wasn't sure whether he meant the bar, the fighting, or him and his issues, but she didn't care. "Wherever you are is where I need to be," she said softly, still remaining motionless.

Bass regarded her edgily, not responding. She decided to chance it, reaching for him again. This time, he didn't push her away as she ran her hands across his torso and wrapped her arms around his waist. He didn't look down at her as she drew herself into him, pressing her lips into his shoulder.

"Charlie," he said. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think? I want you, Bass."

Wrong answer. This seemed to set him off again, as he stepped back from her, causing her arms to fall to her sides. "Here?" he said in shock. "Do you even know where we are? This is where guys take the whores from downstairs to fuck them."

"So?"

"So, are you a whore?" he demanded. "You want me to fuck you like a whore?" Despite his antagonistic words, it appeared that Bass was ready to do just that.

Charlie looked at him, breathing hard. It was insane, but she couldn't remember ever being so turned on, with Bass vulnerable one second and angry the next, talking dirty at her, looking like he was ready to pounce.

"I want you to fuck me however you want to," she answered, meaning every word.

Bass ran both hands roughly over his face and back through his hair. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he stepped forward, abruptly closing the distance between them. He grabbed Charlie into his arms, finally—finally!—lowering his head and kissing her. Charlie roughly tangled her fingers in his hair, feeling weightless as he pulled her up off the ground slightly, deepening their kiss.

Suddenly, Bass released her, and she crashed to her feet, flailing for balance. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Bass pulled her into him again, placing his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head backward painfully. She cried out in pleasure, and he ran his teeth down the exposed line of her throat. Charlie's breath was coming in short gasps, and she let out a sharp "ooh" as he bit down on her tender flesh.

"This is why you came here?" he asked into her ear, keeping her still with the hand in her hair, running his other hand up over her breast, squeezing it.

"Yes," Charlie answered, pleading, pressing her body into his touch, wanting more of him.

Bass laughed, a dark laugh of self-satisfaction. "Couldn't even wait four more days 'til we left for Philly," he stated.

"I was… going crazy," she murmured, her eyes half closed. Then, focusing for a moment on him, dead serious, she added, "I missed you."

With a whispered _fuck_, Bass covered her mouth with his again, kissing her hard, releasing her hair, his hands working at the zipper on the back of her shirt. He got it down and pulled her tank top toward him and off her body, leaving her standing before him in her boots, jeans, and a red strapless bra.

Bass stepped back to admire her, and Charlie let him look his fill, not feeling self-conscious after their many weeks together. She knew that seeing her half-naked before she stripped down drove Bass wild, and she was more than happy to oblige once she realized he liked what he saw, every bit of it.

"Any way to get rid of those jeans but keep the boots?" he asked, his voice ragged, his eyes bright with arousal.

Thinking quickly, Charlie commanded him, "Turn around." He did, and she sat down on the couch, unzipping her boots and taking them and her socks off. She shimmied out of her jeans, leaving her black lacy thong on. Briefly, she wished she'd worn a matched underwear set, but she figured Bass wouldn't mind too much. Charlie zipped her boots back on over her now-bare legs, kicked her jeans and socks under the couch, and stood up.

"Okay," she said. Bass turned around slowly, smirking. When he saw her, the smirk fell off his face, replaced by a dumbstruck look of pure lust as he took in the sight of Charlie, standing proudly in her knee-high black leather boots, tiny black thong panties, and red lacy bra, her pert breasts straining up out of the cups.

"Holy fuck," he said, his hands immediately moving to undo his fly. He pulled his cock out, and Charlie could see it was rock hard and glistening with precum, felt wetness pooling between her legs in response. Bass fixed her with a hot stare as he pumped himself deliberately. "You're like a fucking wet dream."

"But I'm real," she said impatiently, ready for him to touch her again.

Bass laughed, sounding slightly out of breath. "Yeah, you are," he agreed, his cock still in his hand. "Lay down on the couch."

Charlie pouted. "Bass, get over here," she protested.

"You came here looking for me," he reminded her sternly. "No one invited you. My place, my rules." The grin playing on the corners of his mouth let her know he was teasing, but he expected to be obeyed.

Sighing, Charlie laid down on the cracked red vinyl of the couch, resting her back on one of the armrests, her legs bent up in front of her. "I probably just caught about eight STDs," she whined. "Now what?"

"Spread your legs," he said. Charlie thrilled, realizing where she'd heard him say that before. The first time they'd had phone sex, months ago. It felt a lifetime away, hearing that anonymous, sexy voice on the phone that turned out to be Bass, her Bass. At that moment, she decided to give in to wherever he was taking her, just as she had in those first conversations. She pulled her right leg in high along the back of the couch and lowered her left leg to the floor, resting on her high heel, pushing her legs as far apart as she could, draping her arms over her knees.

She heard Bass gasp as she moved. He stepped around so he was square to her, and he stared at her spread open below him. Even though Charlie was used to him looking at her, this was a bit much, and she felt her face growing hot.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he said. "Touch yourself for me."

Without hesitation, Charlie slid her right hand down her pelvis and into her panties, pushing her fingers into her slit. She bucked up slightly and closed her eyes at the contact—she was already so aroused. Messily, she spread her moisture over her folds, rubbing her fingers in circles, hitting her clit at the angle she liked. The backs of her fingers pressed uncomfortably against the fabric of her panties—normally she would just take them off. But Bass wanted them on.

Bass made a strained hissing sound as she worked, and she opened her eyes to see Bass stroking himself in time to her rhythm, watching her hand intently. Charlie tilted her hips up and pushed her fingers inside herself, desperate to be filled, despite knowing that nothing could do it for her but Bass. An involuntary moan escaped from her mouth as she did, and she quickly pulled her hand back up to press harder into her clit. She felt her hard nipples poking into the fabric of her bra as she breathed hard, suddenly so close to orgasm. Imagining Bass mounting her, fucking her, sent her over the edge, and she bit her lip hard as she came quietly, her brow furrowed in pleasure, her pussy gushing moisture over her hand.

As she came down from her high, she was dimly aware of her fantasy coming true as Bass dropped on top of her on the couch, grabbing her hand that had been in her pussy and twining it into his own, pushing it down near her head. "So wet," he muttered. With his other hand, he pulled her soaked panties to one side, exposing her swollen lips. He ran his fingers firmly over her opening and over her orgasm-sensitive clit, causing her to cry out.

Then, holding her panties to the side, he lined his cock up with her entrance. Charlie felt just the tip pressing into her and thought she would die if she didn't get more. He was so hot, so hard, and she was so ready, her pussy aching with need for him. "Bass," she said. "Please."

He paused, pushed his hips into her, letting his cock sink in a tiny bit further. "Please what?" he asked her.

Charlie looked at him defiantly, not responding, trying to push herself down onto him, but his hand held her in place. Bass fucked her shallowly with just the tip of his cock, working his hips with utter control. Charlie wasn't sure she could hold out longer than him. It felt so delicious, and she wanted more of him, all of him, inside her, so badly. She threw her head back and moaned with frustration.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his voice tight through his smile. "Tell me what you want, Charlie. Say it."

She couldn't take it any more. Pulling her head up, she begged, "Fuck me, Bass. Please, give it to me."

Finally, Bass impaled her with his cock, roaring with passion, slamming into her, fucking her hard and fast. Charlie was pinned beneath his body. It felt like every bit of his weight was going into each thrust of his cock inside her. Charlie cried out with pleasure as the friction gave relief to her coiled insides. Bass was finally filling her, stretching her. She moved down as Bass thrust up, pushing him even deeper inside her. Spreading her legs as wide as she could, she pulled her left knee to her chest, opening up for him. Noticing what she'd done, Bass moved his hands to her knees, just above her boots, holding her legs open in front of him as he fucked her.

"So… fucking… hot," he groaned, slowing his pace somewhat, clearly wanting to make it last. He ran his hands over her boots, maneuvering to get her legs up over his shoulders, tight in to his neck, and then he started fucking her faster again. The new angle made her feel tighter, pushed everything together. Charlie could feel her panties rubbing against her pussy as Bass moved in and out of her.

Charlie was bent nearly in half below him, her heels up in the air as Bass plunged even deeper inside her. She loved being at his mercy but was somewhat uncomfortable, barely able to move.

"Bass," she said, pushing at his shoulder, lowering her legs down off of him. "Sit back." He did as she asked, pulling out of her and settling back into the center cushion of the couch, his feet planted on the floor in front of him.

Somewhat awkwardly, Charlie unrolled herself, having some difficulty standing up, and teetered to her feet in front of Bass. He watched her intensely, his cock standing straight up out of his pants, covered with both their moisture. Charlie stretched her arms behind her and unclasped her bra, tossing it aside. As she did, she saw Bass removing his final pieces of clothing, so he sat naked before her.

Charlie ran her hands over her breasts, savoring the feeling of stimulation to her nipples. Bass groaned, and she did it again, cupping her breasts in her hands and pinching the nipples between her fingers. Then she hooked her thumbs around her panties and lowered them down her legs, feeling the relief of the cool air on her aroused cunt. She pulled them off around one boot, then the other, stepping out of them. Then she grasped the zipper of her boot to take it off, as well.

"No!" Bass said urgently, his voice croaking slightly. "Leave them on."

Quirking an eyebrow at him, Charlie dropped the zipper and stood up straight. Bass stared up at her, breathing hard, his mouth slightly agape.

"Mmm, that's better," she moaned, running her hands over her now-naked body. She dipped a hand briefly between her legs, spreading her lips apart, electrifying her nerve endings. Charlie saw Bass moving to get up and stepped forward, bending down to put a hand on his chest to still him. Then she climbed onto Bass' lap, one leg on either side of his, his cock pointed up and resting on her mound.

Reaching down, Charlie grasped Bass' cock in her hand, squeezing it slightly, savoring the hard feeling of his arousal. Then she pushed herself up slightly with her legs, lining him up, and sank down onto his length. As his girth filled her again, she let out a whimper. Charlie began to ride him, impaling herself on his cock over and over, savoring the way his thickness separated her folds, his tip hit her deep inside. Rolling her hips, she worked him into her at every angle, holding onto his shoulders. She found the perfect pace and started crying out involuntarily, "Oh… oh… oh…"

Bass grabbed onto Charlie's ass as she rode him, cried out with pleasure for him. Pushing his face into her neck, he groaned, "Fuck. Such a needy little slut for me." In response, Charlie rode him even more vigorously, pounding her clit into his pubic bone. Bass grabbed the heels of her boots and yanked her legs forward, simultaneously pushing his hips up into her, ramming her with his cock in a sharp stroke. At that, she came undone again, emitting a high-pitched scream of ecstasy.

Bass kept thrusting up into her as she rode out her orgasm, pistoning his cock up and down steadily. His hands had moved back to her ass, and he grasped her firmly, moving her over his cock, as he made determined grunting noises. He grew louder and louder, until with a final groan, he pulled her down and held her in place. Charlie felt him shaking slightly as his cock pulsed inside her, filling her with his cum.

They sat like that for several long seconds, Charlie savoring the feeling of Bass inside her and his arms around her as she relaxed against him. But the couch wasn't exactly comfortable for cuddling, so they got up. Charlie did finally take off her boots, so she could get dressed. Bass put his pants back on, and then he opened the footlocker that Charlie had noticed when they came in. He pulled out the rest of his clothes, his jacket and shoes, and his personal effects. Quickly, Bass got dressed, putting his stuff in his pockets, and donned his leather jacket.

Glancing at Charlie in confusion, he asked her, "Don't you have a coat?"

"I left it downstairs," she explained.

Nodding, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her lightly. "I'm glad you came here tonight," he said.

"You're not mad?" Charlie asked, rubbing her hands along the soft leather over his shoulders, inhaling the familiar scent.

Bass shook his head. "I'm not mad. But I don't want you coming back here. We leave for Philly on Monday—can you promise me you'll stay away between now and then?"

Charlie frowned. She thought Bass had gotten past shutting her out, hiding from her. "Are you fighting again before we go?" she asked. In response, she saw his eyes harden. He didn't answer, and she felt her ire flaring. "Bass! We are not going back to this. Why can't you just be honest with me?"

"Sorry. You're right," he said. Sighing heavily, he added, "I've been trying pretend that this doesn't exist, for you. Pretend I'm not fucked up, that I'm just like other guys."

Charlie objected, "But you're not like other guys. That's what I love about you." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized what she'd said and clamped her lips shut. Charlie hoped that her admission hadn't registered with Bass, but that seemed unlikely as he held her even more tightly in response.

"If that's true, then I'm the luckiest goddamn guy in the world," Bass said with a tender smile. A pause, then, "And yes. I'm fighting Saturday night."

Charlie sighed with relief that he'd finally been honest with her, that he hadn't seemed appalled by what she'd told him. "Okay. Thank you."

Taking her hand, he led her toward the door. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'll drive you home." He paused, then amended, "Well, to within a few blocks anyway."

He did just that, and as Charlie moved to get out of the car, he took her hand, holding her back. "Hey," he started. Charlie met his eyes and saw joy and anticipation there as he said, "Four more days." Her smile matched his as she nodded, giving him one last kiss as they said goodnight.

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	7. Chapter 7

On Monday, Charlie put the finishing touches on her packing and glanced at the clock to see it was nearly 10 a.m., the time when Bass was scheduled to meet her downstairs. The only time she'd spoken to him in the last few days was when he had called her after his fight on Saturday to let her know he was okay and to confirm he'd be picking her up Monday morning. Otherwise, she'd been busy finishing her schoolwork, and trying to stay under Miles' radar.

Charlie rolled her two huge suitcases out to Miles' front hallway, her backpack slung over her shoulders, her purse dangling from one arm. Dropping the bags, she stepped into the kitchen where Miles was sitting, drinking coffee.

"Miles, I'm heading out," she said, fighting for casualness, praying he would just let her go. She of course hadn't told him that Bass was driving her to Philadelphia, let alone that he was staying there with her for the foreseeable future. Though she and Miles had come to an uneasy peace, they had still been pretty cool with each other since Thanksgiving. Neither of them had spoken about Bass, and as far as Charlie knew, Miles hadn't spoken _to_ him, either.

Looking up in surprise, Miles asked her, "What? I thought your train wouldn't be 'til later."

Uncomfortably, Charlie replied, "No, I'm going now," leaving his assumption about her transportation undisturbed.

Standing up and pushing his paper aside, Miles said, "Well give me a second to get dressed, and I'll drive you to the station. It would be crazy for you to take a cab."

Her stomach sinking, Charlie realized there would be no getting around the truth. "Um, that's okay. I have a ride."

Miles froze, anger washing over his features. "Please don't tell me Bass is taking you."

"Yeah, he is." She couldn't think of what else to add. 'I'm sorry' wasn't true. 'I hope that's okay' was futile.

"Charlie, please. Just let me drive you. It would mean a lot to me," Miles said, tense, clearly trying to hold his temper in check.

Blowing out a breath of air, Charlie finally confessed, "I can't. He's not just driving me to the train station. He's driving me to Philly."

"WHAT?" Miles exploded. "That—no! Absolutely not, it's out of the question. He's not driving you anywhere."

Exasperated, Charlie snapped back, "Guess what! You don't get to tell me what to do anymore! You don't get to bully me by threatening to kick me out before I can finish my semester. I'm already leaving. And I'm going with Bass."

Miles shook his head, his hands clenched at his side. "I thought you were smarter than this. How can you be so stupid?" he said disgustedly. "Do you really think that Bass cares about you? That he's going to do anything other than use you in whatever seedy roadside motel you stop at, then forget about you as soon as he gets back to Chicago?"

Tossing her hair defiantly, Charlie informed him, "Actually, Bass isn't coming back to Chicago. He's staying in Philadelphia. With me." She neglected to mention that she had no idea for how long.

Miles' face darkened with fury. Shoving his way around the table and brushing past Charlie, Miles tore out the front door, leaving it hanging open behind him. Charlie quickly gathered her bags, clumsily rolling her two suitcases as she pursued Miles down the hall. She heard the elevator door ding and called, "Wait!"

When she rounded the corner, she saw that he hadn't. Frustrated, she pushed the elevator button again, and waited.

Charlie finally struggled through the lobby and out the door of Miles' building. She saw Bass' car parked outside, waiting for her, and Bass and Miles standing on the curb, talking angrily.

"Hey!" Charlie called, causing both of them to snap their heads toward her. Immediately, Bass hurried over to where she stood, holding up his hand to indicate she should go no further. Meeting her eyes, he favored her with a tender smile, a smile that said everything was going to be okay. Bending close to her, he took her two heavy bags in his hands and walked them over to the trunk of the car.

"We are NOT done here," Miles insisted, pursuing Bass around the back of the car.

Bass slammed the trunk shut and whirled around. "I think we are. You don't want me to go, don't want me anywhere near Charlie. I can't agree to that, but I do understand. I really do."

"Well, I DON'T," Miles exploded. "Why the fuck are you doing this, Bass? Did I do something to piss you off? You want to hurt me, hurt me, but leave her out of it."

Closing his eyes briefly in impatience, Bass said, "Brother, this has less than nothing to do with you. This is about me. And her."

Frustrated, Miles urged him, "Find someone else."

Bass laughed humorlessly. "Shit, don't you think I know that would be easier? There's no one else. It's her. Only her."

At that, Miles shoved Bass violently against the car. Bass staggered back, and Miles raised a fist to punch him. Quickly, Bass maneuvered out of the way like the expert fighter he was and grabbed Miles' arm, shoving it down, pinning him.

"Just stop it, Miles," Bass gritted. "We're going. You want to spend the night in fucking jail on top of it?" Bass jerked his head back toward a few bystanders who had paused to watch the altercation. Miles followed his glance and reluctantly nodded. Satisfied, Bass released him, and Miles stepped back.

"You ready?" Bass addressed Charlie, who had been standing aside, watching everything. She nodded, unable to speak. Bass stepped around Miles and opened the car door for Charlie, standing between her and her uncle.

"You are so far from deserving her," Miles said nastily as Charlie slid into the car.

Bass shut the door. Through the window, slightly muffled, Charlie heard him say, "You really think you need to tell me that? That I don't deserve to be happy? Don't deserve a decent woman? Christ, Miles, do you know me at all?"

For a second, Charlie thought she saw Miles' face soften with empathy for his oldest friend. But it was gone as soon as it appeared, and instead he just sneered. Bass finally got in the car, meeting Charlie's eyes briefly with an intense stare.

Miles yelled, as a parting shot, "Don't bother calling me when this all goes to shit. EITHER of you," he added, looking in the window at Charlie. She met his eyes evenly, refusing to flinch.

Bass started the car and threw it in gear, pulling off faster than was necessary. Once they were a few blocks away, Bass glanced over at Charlie with a half-smile on his face. "Well, that was awkward," he understated.

Letting out a burst of semi-hysterical laughter, Charlie released her pent-up tension. Bass reached over and took her hand, and she squeezed his gratefully. Silently, they looked ahead as they left Chicago behind.

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Bass and Charlie took their time on the road, spending the night at an adorable bed and breakfast several hours outside of Philadelphia. _Not at a seedy motel, Miles_, Charlie thought. Still, she hadn't had sex with Bass that night. She told herself it was just because she was tired, not because of Miles' jibe.

When they pulled into town the next afternoon, their first stop was Charlie's apartment. The plan was for Bass to help her get settled, then go alone to the furnished apartment he'd found to sublet for the next couple months. As Bass and Charlie opened the front door, they could hear the sounds of laughter and female chatter drifting down the hall.

Bass shut the door behind them with a thump, and the sound brought Charlie's two roommates rushing up from the depths of the apartment, eager grins plastered on their faces.

"Charlie!" exclaimed one, a short brunette named Elizabeth. "Yay, you're back!" She threw her arms around Charlie in an exuberant hug, which she returned with one arm and a small smile.

"We missed you!" her other roommate, a curvy blonde named Tara added, throwing her own hug on top of Elizabeth's. "The girl you rented your room to was insane."

"Completely," Elizabeth agreed, untangling them all from the hug. "She left her dirty underwear pretty much all over the bathroom. And gave herself haircuts in the sink and didn't wash it out. Oh and had loud sex on the couch constantly. Though weirdly, never in your bed."

Charlie laughed. "Thank God."

"And she definitely ate pig's feet. I mean, ew," Elizabeth finished, Tara nodding in affirmation. Glancing up and finally seeming to notice Bass, she held out her hand to him, "Hi, I'm Elizabeth."

"Bass," he said, shaking her hand, and then introducing himself to Tara. Charlie could see a smile playing on the corners of his lips. "Nice to meet you guys."

"Uh, yeah, nice to meet you. Who are you?" Tara said, looking at Charlie with wide eyes.

Charlie evaded the question. "He just moved here. He's helping me get settled in," she non-explained, gesturing down at her suitcases. "We're just gonna go put this stuff in my room."

Elizabeth and Tara exchanged a knowing glance. "Okay," Tara replied. "Really nice to meet you, _Bass_." They wandered off to the kitchen, giggling to each other, leaving Bass and Charlie standing in the hallway.

Once they were safely behind Charlie's closed and locked door, Bass put the suitcases out of the way and plopped down on her bed. Running his hand through his hair, looking slightly stunned, he asked, "Those women are your age?"

Charlie laughed, sensing what he was getting at. "Yeah, we're all seniors."

"They seem younger," he muttered.

"Maybe I seem older," Charlie said. "They're always telling me I'm too serious. No fun." She left unsaid what she and Bass both knew: that being abandoned by her mother growing up, largely ignored by her father in favor of her ill brother, and pretty much left to her own devices had caused her to grow up faster than most.

Bass nodded in understanding and said, "Still. Kind of makes me feel like a dirty old man."

Charlie stepped over to him where he sat on her bed. Grinning mischievously, she climbed up onto his lap so she was straddling him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I didn't think there was any doubt left about that."

Bass laughed, "Oh there's not?"

"Mmm, I don't think so," Charlie said, beginning to move her hips against Bass', feeling the effect she was having on him. "At least not about the 'old' part. Not so sure about 'dirty.'" She pressed her chest against his, smashing her breasts into his body, causing him to groan.

"I'll show you dirty," he threatened. Before she could respond, he hooked one arm around her torso and threw her onto the bed below him, covering her with his body. Charlie stared up at him smiling, her face flushed, eyes sparkling.

Bass braced his arms on either side of Charlie, looking down at her. Nestling one of his muscular thighs between her legs, Bass moved against Charlie's heated core, making her cry out from the friction even through their jeans.

"Now Charlie," he said mock-reproachfully. "You heard your roommates. They don't like listening to loud sex." He ground his leg against her, causing her to whimper. She pursed her lips shut, and he grinned down at her. "I don't want them to get a bad impression of me."

Lowering his head, he kissed Charlie roughly, pressing her down into the mattress below him. Charlie tried to coil her body around him, but he still hovered over her infuriatingly, his leg pinning her in place.

"Bass," she whispered when he broke their kiss to suck his way down her neck. She writhed against him, angling her body just so… and was able to get a hand on his waistband. Determined, she pushed her hand into his jeans, finding his hardness and grasping him firmly. Bass bit her neck, hard, and groaned as she made contact.

Moving quickly, Charlie used her other hand to undo Bass' fly and pulled his cock out. She ran her hand over his hard length, and his smug smile disappeared into a mask of need and want. Charlie worked her hand over him the way that she by now knew he liked.

"Baby," he whispered between breaths into the side of her neck, so quietly she wasn't sure she heard him. "Feels so good…"

It was incredibly hot finally having Bass in her bedroom, on her territory, rather than being on his, as they usually were. Charlie felt herself getting turned on at the sight of him over her, his knees pressed into her teal sheets, his cock standing proudly at attention as she jerked him steadily. She wet her hand with spit and moved it over him slickly.

"Shit," Bass cursed, and pulled back, his eyes aflame with lust. Whipping his t-shirt off over his head, he lowered his body against Charlie's. She rubbed against him, savoring the warmth and strength of him.

Pushing his hands up under her shirt, running them over her thin bra, Bass said, "I swear, I need to be inside you. Right now."

She tried to laugh triumphantly, but the feeling of Bass' calloused hands over her aroused, hot nipples made it come out more like a gasp. Impatiently, he shoved his hands up under the cups of her bra, feeling her bare flesh. "Get this off," he commanded, pulling away from her and removing his own clothes.

Charlie sat up and removed her top and bra. Then she stood, staring down Bass, who was lying naked on the bed, leaning on one arm, stroking himself with his free hand, studying her. Deliberately, she slid her jeans down her legs, stepping out of them. Then, she turned her back to him and bent over slightly, hooking her thumbs under the sides of her cotton panties, certain that Bass could see that her arousal had soaked through the fabric. Charlie heard Bass' slight groan behind her as she stood motionless for a few seconds.

"Charlie," he croaked, and she stood up, leaving her underwear in place.

Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she asked sweetly, "Yes, Bass?"

With a growl, Bass raised himself up off the bed, stalking toward her. Charlie giggled and crossed the room, bending over her desk with her hands braced on its surface, wondering briefly where the chair had gone. She felt Bass molding himself to her back, his skin blazing hot against hers, his heavy erection jutting between her thighs.

"In a teasing mood, are we?" he asked in her ear, reaching around her to grab her breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers, causing her ass to arch up into him involuntarily. Bass trailed his right hand down her body softly, dipping into the front of her panties, lightly trailing his fingers over her sensitized bud. Charlie hummed appreciatively as he went lower, finding her wetness then drawing his fingers back up over her clit. She pressed her hips forward, craving more friction, and he pulled his hand away suddenly.

Charlie yelped, and Bass laughed, holding her pinned between the desk and his body, his hands back on her breasts. "We can do teasing if you'd like, Charlie. I've got all day," he said.

In response, Charlie bucked her ass into him hard, causing him to stumble back a step. As Bass regained his balance, Charlie quickly thrust her panties down her legs to her knees and laid herself flat against the desk, exposing herself to Bass. She felt the blunt head of his cock rubbing against her slit, heard his breathing getting erratic behind her.

"No more teasing," she commanded. "Take me, Bass."

Almost before the words were out of her mouth, Bass thrust into her with a smooth stroke, causing them both to cry out with satisfaction. His strong hands kneaded her ass as he pounded into her, opening her to him further. Charlie turned her face slightly toward him, and he kissed her hard, plunging his tongue into her mouth as his cock was plunging into her body. She backed into him harder and felt his cock grazing her cervix, filling her perfectly.

Bass moved his lips to her shoulder. Charlie felt his breath on her, and his cock growing stiffer inside her. "Charlie…" he cried, his voice hoarse, desperate. She could tell he was riding the edge of his orgasm and pushed back against him.

"Not yet," she ordered, turning around to face him, taking his fluid-slicked cock in her hand, squeezing his base. "I need more of you."

Charlie kicked her panties the rest of the way off. She raised herself up and sat on the desk. Balancing her heels on the edge, she spread her legs wide and began to rub herself with one hand, using the other to brace herself.

Hungrily, Bass stepped forward and kissed her, then shoved his cock inside her waiting pussy, picking up a rapid pace. It was incredibly erotic, not touching him other than where his cock was entering her. Charlie watched him watch her as she brought herself close to her climax, ecstatic with the combination of his cock filling her and her own fingers skillfully working her clit.

Bass' pounding grew more insistent, and her legs slipped off the edge of the desk. Before she could drop down, Bass caught her, pulling her forward and into his arms, so that only he supported her hips and legs as he fucked her in midair. Charlie felt the sensation of nearly falling, over and over, with every stroke of his cock. She screamed as her orgasm surged through her, her hips undulating in Bass' grip, her legs squeezing tight around him.

Pulling her off the desk, Bass fell to the floor and dragged her down on top of him. "Ride me," he begged, grasping her thighs in his hands, stroking his cock up into her. Charlie shifted her hips back and forth against him, grinding down hard into his body, feeling his cock moving in her depths. Bass' eyes were closed, his face furrowed in exertion, the tendons in his neck standing out as he pounded his pelvis into her. He gritted and bared his teeth, a low groan starting deep in his chest and growing louder, finally bursting forth in an animalistic shout as he came. Charlie felt him pumping deep inside her, slamming her body down onto him, wringing every drop of his cum into her.

Charlie collapsed onto Bass' chest, resting her brow on his damp skin. For several seconds, neither of them could do anything but breathe. Eventually, Charlie rolled off of Bass and stood, dragging him to his feet so both of them could flop onto the bed. Turning so her back was to Bass, Charlie pulled the blanket over them both. She gave a deep sigh of satisfaction as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Good?" Bass murmured in her ear.

"More than good," Charlie replied dreamily, too thoroughly fucked to come up with a snarky response.

A pause, then Bass said smugly, "Guess I'm not such a dirty old man after all."

Laughing, Charlie corrected him. "No, you still are. But you're _my_ dirty old man." She was very glad Bass couldn't see her face as she blushed, knowing her use of the possessive would not go unnoticed.

Bass tightened his arms around her. "Yeah, I am," he agreed simply. Though she wasn't altogether surprised, Charlie loved hearing wild, dangerous, untamable Bass Monroe declaring that he was hers.

They lay quietly for a few minutes, and then Bass spoke again. "You know, you can _tell_ people we're dating," he said, his tone slightly condescending.

Charlie rolled around to look at him, "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Like your roommates. They can tell I'm not just some guy who's helping you move your stuff." Charlie noted the wry grin on Bass' face, as if he thought she was being silly. But in his eyes, she saw a hint of trepidation; maybe he feared that she wouldn't want to claim him publicly. Her heart gave a little lurch at that, the idea that he could feel vulnerable to her.

"I guess I got the impression you're not the type to go for the whole 'boyfriend' label," Charlie said, her heart pounding. All along, she had avoided any clinginess, never wanting to risk scaring him off.

Bass shrugged. "I'm usually not."

Somewhat confused, Charlie asked, "And now? Are you?" She wasn't even sure if she meant, 'are you the type to use labels,' or 'are you my boyfriend?'

Propping himself up on one elbow and tracing his thumb along her jawline, Bass replied, "Well, I moved to Philadelphia for you, so I'd sure as hell like to think so."

Charlie put her hand over his and laced their fingers together. With a smile, she said, "Yeah. I think so, too."

Smiling back, his eyes serious, Bass drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it. Then he dropped his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and relaxing down onto her pillow. Charlie closed her eyes, too, drifting off with the feeling of Bass' breath feathering her lips.

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	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and PMs—they definitely help with the motivation to get this story out of my head and onto the page!**

Charlie's spring semester didn't start until January, so she and Bass had time to enjoy each other, and Bass' new city, in the meantime. She went home for just a few days at Christmas. Ever since her mother had left their family, they didn't make a very big deal out of the holiday, and Charlie never went home for long. She made a half-hearted offer for Bass to come with her, but truthfully, she wasn't ready to introduce him to her family. It was a relief when he assured her that he was more than used to spending Christmas alone—that it was just another day. If Charlie hadn't already bought her plane ticket to Texas, she would have gladly stayed with him so they could ignore Christmas together. Instead, they exchanged gifts just before she left. Charlie had gotten him a framed print of photographs of Civil War leaders, which he loved. Bass gave her a teardrop-shaped diamond pendant, brushing off her protests that it was too much.

Duncan told Bass that she was visiting Philadelphia for New Year's Eve and wanted to spend it with them. She claimed she had a business meeting in the city, but Charlie suspected she had mostly come to check up on Bass. They all agreed to meet at a party being thrown by a man that Duncan had done security consulting for in the past. It turned out to be at a home on Rittenhouse Square, one of the most exclusive addresses in the city.

Charlie was nervous as they walked up to the party. She'd tried for a sophisticated look, in a tight-fitting knee-length black dress, her hair up in a twist, wearing the necklace from Bass. Bass' look complimented hers—he was in gray slacks, a white button down, and a sport coat with no tie. Charlie never got tired of seeing him dressed up, showing him off.

"I hope everyone here isn't twenty years older than me," she commented, nudging her hip against Bass.

He affectionately squeezed the arm she had tucked in his. "What, like I was twenty years older than everyone at that holiday party you dragged me to on campus?"

Charlie snorted and rolled her eyes at the memory of the party, which had featured keg stands, a Secret Santa exchange that somehow turned into strip Secret Santa, and lots of vomiting. "Why do all my efforts to be social go so horribly wrong?" she asked.

"You're just not fit for this world," Bass teased her. "You'd be better off living in the woods with wolves."

"Ha ha," Charlie said dryly, any other comment drowned out by the sound of the party as they entered. The atmosphere was decidedly different from a college party. Everyone was dressed to impress. Waiters with trays of champagne and wine greeted them at the door. Glittering decorations festooned the entryway. Charlie could hear music thumping from the next room.

Charlie and Bass found Duncan and spent time catching up with her, between her making rounds of the room. Duncan dragged a few of her acquaintances over to meet them, pointedly mentioning that Bass was also an ex-Marine with a great head for logistics and leadership. Not wanting Charlie to be left out, she also introduced them to someone who taught in the history department at Boston College, informing him that Charlie planned to pursue a Ph.D. after graduation.

Bass was more relaxed and happy than Charlie had seen him since they left Chicago. He laughed heartily at old inside jokes with Duncan, and he couldn't keep his hands off of Charlie. Every few minutes, he caressed her back, grabbed her hand affectionately, or draped his arm around her waist. After several rounds of drinks, he pulled Charlie onto the dance floor, which was already crowded with revelers.

In Charlie's opinion, Bass was an incredible dancer. He was usually so reserved, so cynical, but somehow when he moved on the dance floor, he was as graceful and purposeful as he was in the fighting ring. He confidently led her into steps and twirls, making her feel competent by extension. She noticed a few women watching them enviously and wrapped herself smugly around Bass, proud that he was entirely hers.

After a few songs, Charlie told Bass she was going to grab another drink. She offered him one and he just shook his head, still moving to the music. Charlie smiled affectionately and moved over to the bar. As she was waiting to give her order, Duncan sidled up to her.

"Duncan, thank you so much for coming to visit," Charlie said earnestly. "I know it means a lot to Bass. He doesn't say so, but he misses you guys." Charlie had been waiting to get Duncan alone to tell her this, so as not to embarrass Bass.

Duncan raised her eyebrows. "No problem. I was curious to see how you guys were doing. Miles made it sound like it was going to be the fucking apocalypse out here."

Charlie's stomach sank. "You've been talking to Miles?"

"Well, yeah. When Bass disappeared into thin air without bothering to tell anyone where he was going, I figured Miles would know. He did, but it meant I had to listen to him ranting for about an hour."

"Yeah," Charlie said. "He was… upset. When we left."

Duncan laughed. "No kidding." She took a sip of her drink and added, "For what it's worth, I think you guys are cute. I've never seen Bass so into a woman. He's like a different guy." Gesturing with her drink, smirking, she added, "Look at him."

Charlie followed her gaze and saw that Bass was still dancing, by himself, totally un-self-consciously. She was briefly mesmerized by sexy he looked, his eyes half-closed, body moving rhythmically, completely absorbed in the music. It was hard to reconcile this man, who looked like he hadn't a care in the world, with the guy who had beaten other men senseless for a living.

"He is really hot, isn't he?" Duncan commented.

Charlie shot her a disapproving look. In response, Duncan laughed and bopped her with her hip playfully. Charlie doubled down on her glare when she saw a leggy woman swaying in front of Bass, clearly attempting to dance with him.

Not bothering to excuse herself from Duncan, nor wait for her drink, Charlie hustled back over to Bass. Fixing the woman in front of him with a death stare, Charlie snapped, "Beat it." Looking only mildly curious, the woman slipped away.

Swiveling toward Bass, Charlie prepared to turn her glare on him, but she paused at the huge grin on his face. "What?" she asked.

"You. Are magnificent," he pronounced, grabbing her around her waist and pulling her tightly into him.

Charlie smiled. "Thanks," she said. "You're in a good mood."

The song changed to a slower tempo, and Charlie and Bass swayed together. Bass kissed her sweetly on her cheek. Holding her hand up in his, he moved them in an exaggerated swoop, and laughed slightly when Charlie almost lost her footing, pulling her back safely against his body.

Charlie laughed, too, shaking her head. "Duncan and I were just saying, you seem like a different person these days," she commented. At his curious look, she added, "In a good way. More relaxed. No more fighting."

Bass nodded, understanding. "Feels like all that is a long way away. Can't say I miss it much."

"Why not?" she asked.

Looking into her eyes, Bass bent close to her to make sure she heard him over the music. "All those memories and old demons in Chicago… reminded me that life is short. Being here, with you, a new beginning… reminds me that life is good."

Charlie tilted her head up, and Bass kissed her tenderly. They lost themselves in their embrace until the song ended, and the lights went up over the dance floor.

"Alright, everyone," the DJ announced. "It's only a few minutes until the countdown, so find the lucky guy or gal you want to kiss at midnight and hold on tight!"

A waiter handed them glasses to toast with, and they stood wrapped in each other's arms as the room bustled around them. The crowd started counting down from thirty. Bass and Charlie enthusiastically shouted along, watching the second hand on giant clock over the bar swing around toward midnight.

"Five – four – three – two – one! Happy New Year!" The room exploded into screams and cheers. Outside, fireworks popped.

Bass pulled Charlie into a searing kiss, lifting her up onto her toes as he crushed her into his chest, not caring that champagne was sloshing out of their glasses. They parted, and she clinked her glass against his softly.

"Happy New Year, Bass."

"Happy New Year, baby."

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Bass ended up staying in Philadelphia for all of Charlie's spring semester. Once it became obvious that he was staying long-term, they both admitted they'd been hoping for it all along, but hadn't wanted to add pressure to the situation by saying anything. Bass even admitted he hadn't been able to get an apartment for just a few weeks, so he had signed a sublease through June, hoping for the best.

The months hadn't been without their adjustments. In the beginning, Charlie would get frustrated if Bass insisted on leaving her place to sleep alone at his. And Bass would get irritated with not being able to see Charlie because she had schoolwork to do, but also restless just hanging around her place while she studied. Eventually, they settled into a routine that worked for both of them, which basically amounted to Charlie spending all her free time and every night at Bass' rented place, swinging back by her apartment just to pick up clothes or have a girls' night every once in awhile. She and Bass both enjoyed the extra privacy that his place offered.

One night in mid-April, Charlie had let herself into Bass' apartment after her classes had ended for the day. Bass was out, as she expected – Thursday evenings he had therapy sessions. Just after New Year's Eve, Bass had contacted the local VA and gotten connected with a counselor specializing in PTSD and loss of family members. Bass had been seeing him regularly ever since, working through the issues that had led to his dark, solitary lifestyle. Bass didn't talk much about his sessions, only saying that they helped. Charlie secretly thought it was appropriate that Bass went to them on the night that he used to reserve for fighting.

On this particular night, Charlie was preparing a surprise dinner for Bass. She'd bought gourmet cheeses, thick steaks, and plenty of wine. She turned the lights in the apartment down low to create a romantic atmosphere. The table was beautifully set, and she was just putting the finishing touches on the meal when she heard Bass let himself in.

"Charlie, I've told you a hundred times, you should lock the door when you're home alone. I could have been a murderer or…" He stopped short when he rounded the corner and saw the fancy set-up, and Charlie standing proudly in the midst of it. "What's all this?" he asked.

"This is a celebration," Charlie said, stepping into his arms, greeting him with a kiss. "Hi."

"Hi," he replied automatically, watching her with an anticipatory smile. "Is it…?"

"I got Chicago!" she screamed, jumping up and down.

"Aaah!" Bass yelled with excitement, gathering her in his arms and swinging her around. "Babe, that's amazing!" He kissed her excitedly, his huge grin matching her own.

"They finally called me today and told me I was in off the waitlist if I still wanted the spot. I have until Monday to tell them but—" she met his eyes joyfully. "I'm pretty sure I want it, right?"

Bass' lips pressed together with emotion. Still smiling, but with urgent sincerity, he said, "Yeah. Fuck yeah. Come to Chicago, Charlie. Come be with me." He sounded slightly choked up. Charlie felt tears gathering in her eyes, too.

Bass brushed away a stray tear that dropped down her cheek. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, it's just…" she breathed in deeply. "This probably sounds stupid, but I kind of told myself, if I get into U Chicago, then it's a sign. That things are supposed to, you know, work out between us." She smiled wetly up at him.

Bass looked down at her fondly. "That doesn't sound stupid at all. Except, things would have worked out with us even if you only got into the University of Alaska. It wouldn't have mattered," he said with conviction.

Charlie nodded through her tears and joked, "Yeah, but you don't already have an apartment in Anchorage."

"True," Bass agreed. He paused a second and added, "Speaking of that. I've been thinking about it… You don't have to decide now, but I'd love it if you'd move in with me when we go back to Chicago. Nothing would make me happier than if my place became our place."

Charlie had been hoping that if she ended up back in Chicago, Bass would ask her to move in, so she had no hesitation in replying, "I'd love that, too. Absolutely, I'll move in with you. Not like I haven't basically, already," she added, gesturing at her various piles of things all over his apartment.

"Yeah, and not like you didn't already ask me if you could move in after we'd been dating for only a month," Bass teased her.

Charlie swatted him playfully and changed the subject, "Alright, come on, let's eat. Food's getting cold."

They sat down, and Bass praised Charlie's cooking extravagantly as they tried everything. As they ate their dinner and lingered over wine, they made more plans for their move back to Chicago, and Charlie filled Bass in on the details of her history graduate program.

At a lull in the conversation, Bass asked her, "By the way, have you talked to Miles?"

"A couple days ago," Charlie replied. "I haven't told him I'm moving to Chicago yet. Not sure how he's going to take it."

"He's going to be thrilled. I'm sure he still misses you like crazy," Bass said.

Charlie shrugged. "I guess. We still aren't really able to talk the way we used to."

"Well yeah, since it's probably a little hard for you to talk about what you've been doing without mentioning me."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "I mean, he doesn't say anything when I mention you now. He just pretends like he didn't hear me and changes the subject. He knows that we're still together."

"Think he's coming to your graduation?" Bass asked. "It's only a month or so away."

Charlie nodded, fiddling with her fork. "He said he'll be here."

They both sat silently, immersed in their thoughts for several seconds. Then, Bass said suddenly, "You should call him. Tell him about Chicago."

"What, now?" Charlie asked. "This is supposed to be a celebration, Bass. I don't want to ruin it by bringing him into it."

Bass smiled softly. "It won't ruin it. Come on, you know it'll make his night. He should know."

"He's not even home," Charlie protested halfheartedly. "It's Thursday."

"Then call the bar," Bass said, not letting her off the hook. "The number's in there." He handed her his cell phone.

"Yeah, I know it, anyway," Charlie said, dialing it in directly. As the line rang, she made a face at Bass. When the bartender answered, she asked for Miles, saying who she was. After a few minutes, he came to the phone.

"Charlie?" his voice came over the line, the early evening crowd audible in the background. "Is that you? Is everything okay?" Charlie realized that she never called him at the bar, so he was probably panicking a bit.

"Everything's totally fine," she said hurriedly. "Actually, I have some good news."

"Okay…" he said cautiously. "What's up?" Charlie's heart ached slightly at how patient Miles was with her interrupting him at work, his always being willing to give her his time and attention. He was usually such an awesome uncle, which was part of what made his reaction to her and Bass' relationship so hurtful.

"Um, I just found out today that I got into U Chicago for grad school. Off the waitlist. So it looks like I'm moving to Chicago after graduation."

Miles sat in stunned silence, then exclaimed, "Charlie, that's great!" Charlie heard him yell to the side, "Shelton, give out a free round on the house! … Because Charlie's moving to Chicago this summer! … Stop asking questions and just do it, damnit." He got back on the line and said, "I'm so happy you'll be moving here, you have no idea, kid. You've made my night. No, my week."

Grinning affectionately, Charlie rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm glad, too."

"I didn't even know you'd applied to Chicago," Miles commented. "You never said anything about it when you were doing all your applications this fall. I thought you wanted to go to Austin. Or Syracuse."

Charlie decided to go with honesty. "Yeah, I didn't apply to Chicago 'til later. Not 'til a couple months ago," she explained haltingly, knowing Miles would immediately realize why she'd added an application to Chicago. "I think that's why I got waitlisted before I got in."

The line was quiet for several long seconds, and Miles said, "Is he there?"

"Miles…" Charlie said warningly.

"Can I talk to him?" Miles said. "I promise I'll be… just put him on."

Charlie looked up at Bass. Apparently, he'd heard both sides of their conversation in the otherwise-silent apartment, as he nodded seriously and held his hand out for the phone.

Taking it from Charlie, he held it to his face and said, "Hey, Miles." Charlie could see the effort these simple words were costing Bass. It occurred to her that this might be his and Miles' first conversation since they left Chicago.

"Bass," Miles started. "You're still there." It was clear he meant, with Charlie.

Bass smiled ruefully at Charlie and replied, "Yeah. Still here."

"I guess I have you to thank for Charlie deciding to come to Chicago."

"I think Professor Jacobs had something to do with it, too, but yeah. I'm just really glad it's working out."

Miles said flatly, "Yeah. Seems like it is." He could have been referring to more than jut Charlie's school choice. "Anyway. Thanks."

"Sure. You're welcome," Bass said, seeming at a loss for words. "Miles, it's really good to talk to you," he finally added.

"Yeah," Miles said shortly. "Alright, well, tell Charlie goodnight for me." And the line went dead as he hung up.

Bass turned the phone off and set it on the table, reaching across for Charlie's hand. His face was laden with emotion, and he seemed somewhat in shock.

"You okay?" This time it was Charlie's turn to ask Bass.

Forcing a smile, Bass nodded. "Yeah, absolutely. That's just, the first time I've talked to him since we left. He sounded… different."

"He sounded like maybe he's realizing what a complete ass he's being," Charlie said bitterly. She had less patience with Miles than Bass did, having the entitled attitude of family, and not having Bass' self-loathing tendencies.

"May be," Bass replied. Obviously wanting to change the subject, he said, "But this is your night. Now that we're done eating, how do you want to celebrate?" A devilish spark was lighting in his eyes.

"I thought maybe we could go out on the balcony and look at the stars," Charlie said. "Hopefully it's clear enough to see some." Bass lived on the 18th floor of his apartment complex, in a relatively dark area. They'd spent plenty of time on his balcony enjoying the night sky.

Looking somewhat disappointed, Bass agreed and followed Charlie outside. She hid her smile as she stood pressed against the rail of the balcony. It was an unusually warm April night—the air was soothing and fresh. Charlie tilted her head up to the sky, and nestled into Bass' arms as he hugged her from behind, resting his head on her chin.

"Kind of a cloudy night," he commented softly, keeping with the still tone of the air around them.

"Mmmmhmm," Charlie murmured, no longer thinking about stars. She reached up and rubbed Bass' arms that were wound around her, relishing the feel of his hard muscles under her hands. Bass tightened his grasp around her and dropped his head down to kiss the side of her neck in response. Charlie moaned quietly with pleasure at the feeling of his lips on her skin.

Bass pushed his hands up under Charlie's shirt, brushing his fingers along the bare skin of her stomach as he held her. She rocked back against his body, loving the feel of him. Firmly, Bass pressed himself into Charlie, so she could feel the effect their closeness had on him—he was already hard. Charlie whimpered slightly as he dragged her body against him.

"Maybe we should take this back inside," he rasped into her ear, running his hands up over her breasts, feeling her through her shirt.

"Or maybe not," Charlie said, turning back toward Bass, pulling his head to hers and kissing him hotly. She ran her other hand over his growing erection, making him exhale heavily, tilting his pelvis into her grasp. Charlie undid Bass' pants and reached inside, stroking lightly over his engorged cock.

Bass groaned and protested weakly, "Someone could see us." His objection was belied by his obvious arousal: his quickened breathing, the drops of precum already slicking the head of his dick.

"Who?" Charlie said. "We're the only ones out here. It's dark." She ran her thumb over the tip of Bass' cock, causing him to jump slightly in her hand. "Come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

"My sense of exhibitionism?" he said back. He pulled her toward him and kissed her hard. Charlie smiled against his lips and wound her arms around his shoulders, bracing her weight on him.

With a low growl, Bass whirled Charlie back around and pinned her against the balcony railing, which came up just under her breasts. Charlie gripped the cool metal with both hands, holding herself in place as Bass ran his hands over her body. He palmed her ass, groping the firm, round flesh there. Charlie felt wetness gathering between her thighs, feeling more sensitive to Bass' touch because she wasn't wearing any underwear.

Deftly, Bass undid the drawstring on her cotton pants, loosening it and pulling them down so that they pooled around her feet, leaving her standing only in her tight long-sleeved t-shirt. Seeing that he had left her totally bare, Bass groaned, running his fingers along her soaked folds.

"You're ready for me," he said, not a question. Charlie gasped out a "yes" anyway, her throat tight with anticipation. Shifting behind her, Bass slicked his cock on her moisture and pushed himself inside her.

Charlie hummed with arousal at the feeling of Bass' thick penis filling her. She looked out across the openness of the dark night ahead of her, the lights of the city glowing below them, the stars above, feeling the cool breeze of the air on her skin, contrasting with the heat of Bass behind her, fucking her.

By unspoken agreement, they both stayed quieter than they usually were during sex. The only noise they made were the gasps of their breathing, and the sounds of their flesh coming together as Bass pounded into Charlie from behind.

Pulling her hips back into him, Bass buried himself balls deep in Charlie. She shifted so that he was hitting the spot inside of her that felt like heaven. Each time his cock hit her there, Charlie felt her orgasm getting closer, and she arched into Bass in rhythm, praying for him not to stop. Just as she felt herself starting to lose control, Bass reached up and covered her breasts with his hands, pinching her nipples hard. The shot of pain brought her over the edge, and she shuddered against Bass as her climax raced through her body.

Once she'd ridden out the last of her orgasm, Bass slowed and withdrew from her. Charlie looked questioningly over her shoulder at him, still half-incoherent with arousal.

"Now we go inside," Bass commanded, opening the balcony door and taking her hand. "Come on." He led her on shaky legs through the apartment to his bedroom, where he picked her up and tossed her unceremoniously on the bed. Charlie pulled off her shirt and bra as Bass undressed. Then he climbed up and covered her body with his.

Gazing down at her, Bass drank in the sight of Charlie's naked body. "Can't see you in the dark," he explained. She smiled up at him and pulled him down onto her, spreading her thighs open beneath him. Bass plunged into her again, covering her mouth in a deep kiss.

It wasn't long before his pace increased and each thrust became more powerful. Wrapping his arms tightly around Charlie, crushing her to his chest, Bass pressed his face into her hair. Barely in control, he pumped into her, driving into her again and again, a slave to his cock. With a final surge, he came inside her, crying her name.

Keeping Charlie in his embrace, Bass rolled slightly to the side, and she threw a leg over him, snuggling into his side. Bass ran his hand over the silky skin of her back, his eyes closed. He kissed her temple softly and murmured quietly, "Love you."

Charlie's eyes flew open. It was the first time Bass had said those words to her, and she didn't want to overreact. Teasingly, she asked him, "Did you just say you love me?"

Bass' eyes remained closed as he smirked and squeezed her chidingly. "You know I do," he grumbled.

Satisfied, Charlie burrowed closer to him and replied softly, "I love you, too, Bass."

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The next morning, Charlie woke up and saw that Bass' side of the bed was empty. Figuring he'd just gone to the bathroom or gotten up already, she almost rolled back over to drift off again, when she saw a piece of paper on his pillow. Her stomach dropped with dread. Bass had never left her a note before. She had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.

_Charlie – Decided to go to Chicago this weekend to check on some things. Early flight out, didn't want to wake you up. Call you later. –Bass _

Still naked, Charlie jumped out of bed and grabbed the phone off the wall in the kitchen. Frantically, she dialed Bass' cell phone number. It went straight to voice mail.

Struggling to keep her voice even, Charlie left a message. "Hey, um, just woke up and got your note. Hope everything is okay. Let me know when you get to Chicago." She thought about saying more and decided against it, instead just hanging up.

Charlie leaned against the wall and tried to fight her growing sense of panic. What the hell was Bass doing?

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	9. Chapter 9

Bass unlocked the door of his apartment in Chicago and stepped inside. It smelled slightly stale, and of lemons. He was glad that the housekeeper he had hired had apparently been showing up. The place was spotless, sterile.

Sighing, he threw his keys on the foyer table and walked aimlessly through his place. Now that he was there, he was starting to regret ever coming. It had been sheer panic, running away.

After he told Charlie he loved her, he did his best to act nonchalant, like he'd hardly noticed what he'd said. But he'd lain awake all night, every passing minute filling him with regrets and 'what ifs' and self-doubt. How could he have told Charlie he loved her? Did he even deserve to say that to her? What did he have to offer her, really? He was so much older than her, with a shitload of issues on top of it. Normally, when he and Charlie were together, he didn't feel their age difference; in fact, he felt like they were exactly in sync. But lying there in his bed with her warm, soft body nestled into his side, he felt every one of his years.

Bass tried to convince himself that it wasn't actually a big deal, that he'd told women he loved them here and there, when it seemed like what they expected or wanted to him to say. They were just words. But he knew that this time it was different, because this time he'd wanted to say it. This time, probably for the first time, he'd meant it. And the implications terrified him.

Did this mean he would ask Charlie to marry him? Was she going to expect him to have kids with her? Did he want that? Did he NOT want that? Would living together be a dream come true, or the thing that finally showed they'd been kidding themselves all along? Over and over, the questions swirled through his mind on an endless loop.

Finally, at around 3 a.m., Bass had known he just needed to get away from the temporary life he'd set up in Philadelphia for a while. It had been amazing, spending these months with Charlie, but in so many ways, it wasn't reality for him. Reality was Chicago, his home of the last several years. Maybe getting back there would put his mind right.

So he'd jumped on his cell phone, booked a (ridiculously expensive) last minute plane ticket for just a few hours from then. And now here he was, back in his vacant, cold, apartment. Wondering what the hell to do next.

Sighing, Bass pulled out his cell phone. _Stop being an ass_, he told himself, and called the number for his apartment back in Philly. His generic answering machine message clicked on, and he spoke to Charlie.

"Hey, babe, hope you're okay. Sorry if you were freaked out by me leaving this morning. Just felt like I had to get back and check on things in Chicago. That probably doesn't make any sense…" He trailed off. "Anyway, everything's fine, I'll try to call you again later. Bye."

He hung up and stood staring at his phone for a few more seconds. Then, he made a decision. Grabbing his keys, he turned and headed back out the door.

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Several hours later, Bass walked into the bar. It was early afternoon, and the bright sunlight in a place he normally saw in the darkness of night was disconcerting. Chairs were up on tables around the room, and the room was eerily quiet with the TVs off and no patrons around. A single figure stood behind the bar, bent at the waist, examining shelves of liquor bottles.

The man straightened and turned. Catching sight of Bass, he froze. Bass walked toward him, standing on the other side of the bar.

"Bass," Miles said, his face just this side of displeased. "What are you doing here?"

Bass wished that standing there dumbly would be sufficient. That his oldest friend would recognize when he was going through too much shit to talk about it coherently, pour him a drink, and just be there with him. But now, of all times, that wasn't going to happen. So he had to figure out what to say.

"I flew out first thing this morning," Bass said. "I thought I just needed to get out of Philly, get back to Chicago, but really… I had to talk to you."

Miles' face was impassive. "And why would that be?" he said dryly.

"Fuck, why do you think? I've missed you. And last night when you asked to talk to me I thought… maybe you don't want to kill me anymore." Bass gave a slight, ironic smile.

Seeming unable to help himself, Miles smiled back slightly. Then he shook his head, "That's bullshit."

Bass' heart dropped, and his eyes widened. "What?" he managed to croak out. He knew Miles wouldn't make this easy on him, but he had hoped he wouldn't be quite so harsh.

"You're not just here cause we talked last night. You could have come back any time in the last four months if you just wanted to see if we can kiss and make up. So I ask again: why are you here?"

Resting both his hands on the bar, Bass dropped his head down weakly, staring at the floor. Almost under his breath, he muttered, "Last night… I told Charlie I love her." He didn't dare look up at Miles to see his reaction.

His friend was silent, and Bass heard the sound of liquid sloshing against glass. Miles reached into Bass' field of vision and plunked a tumbler down on the bar between his hands. The strong scent of bourbon wafted up to his nose.

Gratefully, Bass grasped the drink, took a bracing swig, and finally met Miles' eyes. "Thanks," he said, raising the glass slightly in appreciation.

Miles grimaced. "Let's be clear. That's not a celebratory toast. It's strictly medicinal."

Bass nodded, taking another drink. "I told her and then I just… I couldn't sleep, all night. Just thinking about, am I ruining her life, how is this going to work, we've been kidding ourselves…" He looked at Miles balefully. "And I know you must hate hearing this, but there is fucking literally nobody else for me to talk to." Another drink. "So maybe no one at all."

Briefly closing his eyes as if pained, Miles looked back at Bass, his face softened with empathy. After staring at Bass for a couple seconds, he commented, "You're being kind of a bitch right now."

It was so unexpected, Bass barked with laughter and sat down heavily on one of the bar stools. He felt all the tension rush out of his body as he chuckled some more, feeling the relief of having Miles pull him out of his own head.

"Look." Miles continued. "I am only going to say this once, and I can't believe I am going to say it at all. You are allowed to love Charlie."

The mirth faded from Bass' face, and his chest tightened as Miles' words sank in.

"And you deserve to have her love you. All right?" Miles smacked the bar decisively, then turned his back on Bass, folding some bar towels as he gave him time to absorb what he'd said.

Bass was utterly floored by what Miles had just told him. As usual, his best friend knew exactly what Bass needed to hear, when he hadn't even known himself. He was allowed to love Charlie. Allowed to be happy, to start a new life with someone when he'd given up on finding love years ago. And Miles thought he was worthy of Charlie, the person that Bass knew meant more to Miles than anyone else in the world. It was all he could have hoped to hear, and yet…

"No," Bass called out. Miles threw a towel down and turned around, glaring. "Not all right."

"Excuse me?" Miles said incredulously.

"I mean, I appreciate the change of heart, don't get me wrong. But I can't trust something I don't understand," Bass said.

Miles paused for a few seconds, then said, "You took Charlie to Gettysburg."

"Yeah…" Bass said cautiously. The trip had been a disaster. It was just shortly after they'd gotten to Philly, and he had been so excited to explore the legendary battlefield with Charlie. But it had been freezing, and their attempts to explore the outdoor landmarks had left them both cold and miserable. To make things worse, the interior exhibit halls were either closed for updating or overrun with a particularly boisterous junior high school group. Charlie had teased him mercilessly about his terrible taste in date locations for days afterward.

"Yeah, well, the day she told me about that, she was so excited. More excited than I'd heard her in a long time, maybe ever." Miles leaned on the bar, looking at Bass with a serious expression. "So, even though she tried to avoid mentioning you, I started listening. And it turned out, Charlie isn't just the moody, snarky girl I thought she was. Well, she is. But she's also joyful, optimistic, and adventurous. You brought that out in her. The Charlie I've been talking to since you moved to Philly with her is the happiest I've ever heard her."

Bass couldn't hold back a grin. "Wow. Alright. Thank you, for that."

Miles groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, you're welcome. Part of me still wishes it was any other woman for you, any other guy for her. But maybe that was never possible."

"I ran out on her in the middle of the night," Bass confessed, somewhat out of the blue. "I panicked, and I flew out here without even telling her I was going."

Miles nodded, "Yeah, I know. She called me. Wanted me to go easy on you if you came here. And wanted me to keep you out of trouble if it came to that."

"Shit," Bass said, feeling terrible that Charlie had been scared he would return to fighting. He pulled out his phone, dialing the number to his apartment again. After a few rings, his machine clicked on again, and he hung up. "She thought I'd go to Gould's?"

Shrugging, Miles replied, "Didn't really seem like it. More like she just wanted to make sure someone was here for you since she couldn't be."

"I gotta get back there," Bass said, standing up decisively. "I need to talk to her."

Miles smirked. "Fly halfway across the country for a five-minute conversation with me. Fly back to have one with her. They do have these things called phones, you know."

"Right, you're one to talk," Bass retorted. Standing, downing the remainder of his bourbon, he nodded. "Thanks for the drink. See you for the graduation?"

"Yeah," Miles said. "Take care, Bass."

Meeting his brother's eyes, Bass held his gaze for a few seconds. Seeing no malice there, only openness and friendship, Bass nodded, and turned and left.

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Bass entered his apartment in Philly practically at a run. It was the middle of the night, he wasn't even entirely sure of the time – his phone had died in the air, and he'd been focused on only one thing – getting back to Charlie.

She was there. Up, waiting for him. Looking so adorable in her usual tank top and sweatpants, hair in a messy bun on her head, eyes bleary with fatigue as she looked up at him from where she sat on the couch, the TV on quietly in front of her. As soon as she met his eyes, she sprang up and walked over to him.

Bass hesitated, unsure, wondering if she was mad at him, or… his thoughts were silenced as Charlie threw herself into his arms, resting her head against his chest. She felt so warm, hot really, through his layers of clothes. Gratefully, he wound his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest.

"Charlie, I'm so sorry," he started. "I'm a total ass for running away like that. You don't deserve…"

Charlie pulled back from him and met his eyes, which he saw were shining with tears. _Shit_.

"It's okay," she said. "I understand. I've done plenty of running in my time. How do you think I ended up in Philly in the first place?"

Bass' heart melted at her generosity. "I'm sure you didn't leave your family like a thief in the night," he protested.

Charlie shrugged. "Not the point. The point is: you came back. There was something you needed to do, and rather than let it eat you, and us, alive, you took care of it."

"You talk to Miles?" Bass asked.

"Yeah. He called me after you left. Said you were on your way back. That you guys had straightened things out."

"He said he's okay with us being together," Bass said, still hardly believing it himself.

Charlie smiled. "That's good. It's seemed that way for a while. His silence when I mention you has been a lot less angry lately."

Bass laughed slightly. "Well, that's something." He paused, then said, "I came here prepared to grovel and beg for your forgiveness. I feel like I don't know what to say now."

Charlie ran her hands up his stomach, over his chest, and across his shoulders, pushing his jacket off. Bass let it drop to the floor behind him. "Then maybe stop talking for a little while," she suggested. "Just because I'm not mad at you, doesn't mean I haven't been worried as hell the last 24 hours. I think you need to make it up to me." Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Charlie pulled Bass down to her for a deep kiss.

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Charlie stood in front of a mirror in her and Bass' apartment and groaned, flapping her arms so her black gown billowed around her. "This looks ridiculous," she complained.

Bass came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'll admit I like the dress better," he said, referring to the form-fitting but modest burgundy dress she was wearing underneath. "But you make this look good, too."

Turning to face him, Charlie proclaimed, "Liar." Stretching up, she kissed him, then added, "Sexy liar." Unlike her, Bass looked devastatingly gorgeous and well put together, in an immaculate gray suit.

"By the way, I got a nice text from Duncan this morning," Charlie said. "She was sorry she couldn't come. Said she'd give me my gift when she sees us next week." Charlie and Duncan had been in touch on and off since New Year's Eve. Lately, they'd been communicating more, especially since Bass had finally decided to accept Duncan's offer to become a partner in her business. Charlie knew they were going to be a significant part of each other's lives once she and Bass returned to Chicago.

"Nice," Bass commented. Glancing at the clock, he said, "We better go."

Bass drove Charlie to the auditorium, and they made plans to meet up afterward. She found her seat between two other history majors with last names beginning with "Ma" who she'd never met before. The beginning of the ceremony seemed to go by quickly, and before she knew it, it was time for her row to line up.

As Charlie mounted the steps to walk across the stage, she looked out over the crowd, hoping against hope for a glimpse of Bass or Miles. Her dad hadn't come up for the graduation – her brother's high school graduation had been scheduled for the same day, in a cruel coincidence. Once she'd learned that, she'd known what her dad would choose. After all, fair was fair. He'd been at Charlie's high school graduation four years before and couldn't miss Danny's. She told herself she couldn't let it bother her. But that didn't mean it didn't, just a little.

Against all odds, she spotted Bass and her uncle sitting next to each other. Charlie smiled affectionately at Miles' attempt to dress nicely for the ceremony. His rumpled gray slacks clashed somewhat with his tan blazer, but it was an admirable effort. More importantly, she was thrilled to see the two of them sitting together. After Bass' trip to Chicago, she figured they would be civil, but now she knew for sure.

Charlie snapped out of her reverie as she saw there was only one person left in front of her. Then, suddenly, it was just her standing in front of everyone, and she heard her name booming over the loudspeaker, "Charlotte. Matheson." The crowd clapped politely, fatigued by this point in the alphabet. Over the smattering of applause, she thought she heard Miles' voice scream, "YEAH, CHARLIE!"

She hurried across the stage, willing herself not to trip, shook hands with the dean and president of the college, took her diploma, posed for a photo, and just like that, it was done. Charlie descended the stairs on the other side of the stage and returned to hear seat, her heart pounding with exhilaration.

As she retook her seat and prepared to listen to the Ns through Zs, Charlie grinned in anticipation of what the next few days would bring. She and Bass would return to Chicago – together. She'd have the summer off before starting her history grad program, and Bass would start in his new role at Duncan's security firm. It was all coming together so perfectly; it felt too good to be true.

Twisting in her seat, Charlie craned her neck to look back at where she'd spotted Bass and Miles. Miles was looking down at the program in dismay, she guessed at the long list of names yet to be called. But Bass glanced up at the same time she looked back. He met her eyes with a grin, his own happiness mirroring her own.

_Nope_, Charlie thought. _Not too good to be true. Just really, really good_.

**A/N: Thank you all for your patience with this update – the story definitely took a turn from the sexy to the emotional, and it was a lot harder to write, but I hope it worked! (That is to say, sorry there's no smut in this chapter! *wink*) There will be an epilogue at some point, but consider this complete for now. Again, thank you all for your reads, reviews, and kind words. **


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